Footprints in the Clouds
by webgeekist
Summary: Knights of the Old Republic (KotOR), Revan & Bastila: In a time when the end of one war becomes the beginning of the next, the only remaining hope is that when Destiny decides it is done with them, their legacy can finally end the wars they started. (com
1. Shadows and Darkness

Now might be a good time to mention that my name is not George Lucas. As such, assuming at any point in this story that any of these characters belong to me is ridiculous, and you have your arms lopped off by a deranged Sith Acolyte for even thinking it.

Further Notes: I didn't want to serialize it. My curiosity got the better of me. Rest assured should you like this at all, that I already have three more chapters where this one came from.

I'm also aware of how sappy the title sounds. It's not meant to make sense now.

**Footprints in the Clouds**

By Temporal Rift

**_Part One: The Fallout_**

_Chapter 1 - Shadows and Darkness_

All this time and he still wasn't sure of himself.

Confidence, he'd learned very quickly, was not a universal slide scale. Overall, he was very self-confident. Not to the point of arrogance, for that was never something he believed he had the right to. His past was too clouded with darkness for arrogance. All the same, he knew somehow that few alive could stand against him.

She was arrogant when they first met. Prideful. Willful. Undeniably and rightfully so. Time and events had changed that. She, too, was left guarded and unsure. It was ironic, really, that before they saved the universe they had no problems with the way they acted, and now that they both proved beyond all doubt that they were everything they believed themselves to be – more than anyone ever dreamed they could be - they found the humility they had so desperately needed before.

He knew it was all tempered by the guilt they now carried. He wouldn't allow himself to fear the possibility of falling again, of failing again, but though he remembered none of his darkside indiscretions, he saw the evidence of them every day.

She, on the other hand, remembered every terrible moment of them.

Revan found her in her favorite spot, the small cliff overlooking the hilly plains of Dantooine. It was fall there, and the grassland had begun to turn a magnificent sunset orange. Only in the very far-off distance could you see anything else. When they resettled the planet, they had chosen a spot far away from the charred remnants of Darth Malak's fury.

Though she had her choice of views from that clifftop, she always faced in the direction of the ruined Jedi enclave.

"Statement: I advise against going up there, Master. Her mood during her ascent was...dark. It was most refreshing to me, but I am sure you won't enjoy it."

"I know, HK. I can tell."

"Interrogatory: If you know this, Master, why are you here? Masochism is not one of your preferences, though I cannot understand how the extreme water sloshing created by the physical activity you and Mistress Bastila undertook last didn't -"

"Shut up, HK."

"Indignant Acknowledgement: Shutting up, Meatba—I mean, Master."

He slowly climbed to where she was, reaching out slowly through the Force, through their bond, so as not to startle her. Even as he did, he could feel her resistance to him. It hadn't been this bad since..."

"You're thinking of the Rakatan and the Star Forge again."

She laughed just a little, maybe a little too sadly. "I thought I'd blocked you."

"It doesn't take much to figure that out."

He sat next to her, close enough to feel her warmth through his robes, yet far enough away that they did not physically touch. In the golden setting of the suns, her porcelain face reflected the brilliance of the waning light, but her beautiful ocean blue eyes were dark, mired by her thoughts.

He stared at her while she stared out at the horizon line, and they stayed like that until the suns had finally set, and twilight descended upon them.

"I don't deserve you," she finally whispered.

His eyes closed slowly, painfully. "This again," he sighed.

"You know it's true. I tried to turn you. I tried to kill you."

"No, you didn't."

"Revan, I was there. You were there. I raised my blade to you. In anger, I tried to strike you down. How could I? How could I have done it?"

Her eyes, still fixed upon a faraway point, filled with vicious tears. He took her by the shoulders and turned her towards him.

"Do you love me?"

"Revan, wha—"

He repeated himself, more emphatically. _"Do you love me?"_

Her answer was easy and uncomplicated. "Yes. With everything I am."

"Then accept that who you were then was a different person than who you are now."

She frowned, and he could tell by her expression that his statement annoyed her. "I can't simply erase my past. I remember everything that happened. I have nightmares about every waking moment of it. My situation is nothing like yours!"

"It is _everything_ like mine!" The volume and ferocity of his response startled her. He hadn't meant to, but he took advantage of the forced attention.

"Carth said something when we first met. He said that the Force could do terrible things to a mind. He said it could destroy your very identity. And he was right about that, completely right! The dark side changes everything you are, it warps and perverts who you once were into everything you thought you would never be, and it does so happily! You know this. You've been taught this since you entered the service of the Jedi. The person on the temple roof and in the command center was not you. It was the dark side, acting _through_ you."

A sort of realization dawned on her. He was glad for it, but continued.

"And you didn't try to kill me. I gave you opportunities. You never took them."

She didn't say anything for a long moment, and it worried him again for the briefest of moments.

"I know," she whispered.

And he could feel the change.

She shifted to close the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck as she moved. He held her close by instinct, allowing her to use him as support, as a rock to lean on.

"Thank you, Revan."

He shook his head, cracked a half-smile. "For what?"

"For loving me."

The smile bloomed. "Ah. I can't help that."

-

Respond if you wish, as it is appreciated. It is by no means necessary, however. I write for my own amusement. I share because so many others do.


	2. This Was Never Part Of The Plan

**Footprints in the Clouds**

**_Part One: The Fallout_**

_Chapter 2 - This Was Never Part Of The Plan_

After Malak039;s demise and the destruction of the Star Forge, there was a brief period of peace. Sith forces were badly shattered by both the loss of almost the entire line of succession and their only battleship yard. The remains scattered to the far reaches of the galaxy, pursued by Republic ships.

It was in this peacetime that the Jedi High Council had met with both Revan and Bastila about their futures.

In their wisdom, they saw that separating the two would be impossible, as their bond would remain active even over great distances. They saw the futility of forbidding their relationship, as the stress it would cause on the two of them would only infinitely multiply itself over their connection until one or both of them fell into madness.

Neither did they simply accept the idea that the two of them were lovers. It was a dangerously sharp edge that their love would place them on. Thankfully, it was also what had saved them both from the darkness. The Council saw their strength, saw their pain and saw their love, and could see only one possible course of action.

"Padawan Bastila, Padawan Revan, the Council has decided."

They stood in the topmost room of the tall spire that was the Jedi Temple, facing the masters that would, ultimately, decide their fates. Protocol be damned, they faced their fates hand in hand, an action not lost on the rest of the room.

Master Vandar sat on the High Council, surrounded by other masters of his caliber and above. He had been a surprising supporter. A few others on the council were, as well. A few of them hid their position with the expert control expected of a Master Jedi. Two in particular were vehemently opposed to granting the two of them in general and Revan in particular any form of reprieve.

And yet:

"We have decided to grant to you both the status of full knighthood within the Jedi Order."

The relief they felt was sure to have washed through them and into the council chambers. It was followed by a subdued sense of joy. Neither fully believed they deserved such praise, yet both were honored that the council would be willing to confer the title upon them.

"We have also decided that you should both go to Dantooine and aid the recovery efforts there."

Though the Sith had fled, Revan found this decision strange. Dantooine was ravaged, but only the Jedi enclave there had been heavily targeted. It would give them time to think, however, which was perhaps what they both needed. That, and each other.

"I thank the council for their wisdom and compassion," Bastila intoned, bowing before them. Revan bowed, as well, speaking his own gratitude for what amounted to be saving his life.

After the council had recessed, the two Jedi made a beeline for the door. Bastila was anxious to see her mother again. She had not been doing well before they found her again, though between the two of them they had tried their best to help her through the Force. She was improving slowly in some ways, but the disease was faster. Her death was, without some form of intervention, inevitable. But Bastila remained hopeful, and he took solace in the knowledge that Helena had at least enough time to make peace with her daughter. That, at least, would make it easier for his love to bear the grief.

He visited the archives later that night, as he had a habit of doing every night since they had arrived on Coruscant. It was there, as he studied a volume on the ancient wars against the Sith, that Master Vandar found him.

"Sleep is important to a Jedi, my young friend. As such, you should not be here."

"I find myself curious about the histories I cannot remember, Master." It was true enough, though not a whole truth. He wasn039;t sure if he wanted to tell the wiser Jedi everything.

"I must apologize for my part in that," he said. "It was unfair to keep the truth from you."

"Unfair, but understandable. I do not blame the Council for the decision. Placed in the same situation, I039;m not sure I would have acted differently."

"Is there a situation, then, where you would have?"

He didn039;t have to think about it. All he had to do was close his eyes and see his nightmares playing on the back of his eyelids. "I would have obeyed the council the first time."

"Ah. An interesting rumination. Indeed, how many times in our life do we not wonder what it would be like to live in the past knowing what we learn it the future?"

Revan swallowed. "Master Vandar...I can see some of it in my dreams. They039;re vague, but they039;re detailed enough. What039;s worse is I think Bastila can see it, too."

"Tell me, young Knight, of what you see."

A vivid memory came to him. Revan stood on a planet somewhere, destruction and death all around him. In the midst of the rubble stood one lone woman, a Jedi, with her lightsaber held in front of her. Around her were Sith officers and Dark Jedi. And he took his steps forward, his own lightsaber igniting as he closed the distance.

Then he remembered her body as it fell lifelessly to the ground.

"Terrible things, Master Vandar."

The elder Jedi seemed to get the idea. They said nothing, both sitting quietly and half-meditating on their thoughts. Master Vandar seemed to finish first.

"Your bond is strong. Stronger than the Council039;s desire to see it broken."

He jerked sharply. "The council would see it broken?"

The diminutive, puppet-like Jedi shrugged as best he could. "Such a thing is dangerous. As is your love for one another."

"But Master Vandar, it was our love for one another that brought us here. It kept me in the Light, and it brought her back from Darkness."

"Yes, but it also hastened Bastila039;s fall to the Dark Side."

Revan had no response. He already knew that was true. He felt, from so far away and through several layers of force suppression, the progression of her fall. And he knew that, ultimately, she fell for fear of losing him, in anger for being forcibly separated from him, and out of hatred for the man that had caused it.

"It was not an easy decision for the Council to make."

"Yes, I did manage to hear Masters Thadus and Gerrd as they attacked Bastila and I for giving into our passions." He regretted the venom in his words instantly, and laughed at the irony. "I am sorry, Master. That was uncalled for."

"And while you are forgiven, Revan, I caution you about passion. Were this any ordinary case, the council would have had the two of you banished from the Order. Your love for one another is, however, a partial result of unprecedented circumstances, as it is the partial result of our own actions.

Our decision was not given without a measure of concern, but so long as your feelings of passion are controlled in all other aspects, your passion for each other should be a base by which the two of you might heal. There are also some among the Council that believe it is the will of the Force, though that opinion was well-contested."

Revan was surprised by this. "The will of the Force, Master?"

"The Force guided you and Bastila to one another, young Revan. It forged your bond. It is because of this bond that the two of you feel as strongly as you do. And there039;s the matter of your destiny. Whatever that may be, your destinies are forever intertwined."

An eerie chill swept through the air as Vandar said this. As sensitive as Revan was to the Force, he could not help but shudder as it did. "You don039;t believe we have fulfilled our destiny then?"

Master Vandar shook his head. "I do not, nor do you. You are no less attuned to the Force than I, and my senses just told me the Force may not be done with you yet."

-

Ooh. FreakyScary.

Or something.

The Force is like that.


	3. This Wasn't Part Of The Plan, Either

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part One: The Fallout**_

_Chapter 3 - This Wasn't Part Of The Plan, Either  
_

It was late, very late. The three moons were lining up at the top of the Eastern sky, preparing to descend together to the exact point where the smaller of the two suns would rise. He had tried to sleep, but the nightmares returned once again, though he'd managed to keep them at bay for four of the five months they'd spent in this place.

Damaged as it was, Dantooine was now the refuge Bastila had claimed it was when they first arrived after Taris. It was quiet and powerful and beautiful and healing. Revan's only regret was that traveling here meant that most everyone else traveled elsewhere. Mission had gone off with Zaalbar, who had been released from his life-debt. They would eventually wind up back at Kashyyyk, but for now they were exploring some places they'd never explored before. Carth had joined Admiral Doddonna after catching up with his son, Dustil. The younger Onasi was being trained at the temple on Coruscant, as his strong Force affinity and Sith training made instruction and control necessary. Canderous had found work with the Republic fleet as a mercenary, and was off flying the Ebon Hawk with T3 in tow, just in case. Juhani was still on Coruscant. Jolee was off saving trees somewhere, though he promised to come back soon.

Revan was far from lonely, but he missed his friends, anyway. No, how could he be lonely? Bastila was by his side almost every moment of every day, and if not her, then HK-47 made an appearance, threatened a Padawan and made Revan laugh at his sick sense of humor.

"I miss her," he heard Bastila whisper. Revan winced.

"I know, my love. I am so sorry."

"I tried to forget she even existed for so long, and in the end I had so little time."

"No. Not enough time. There's never enough time for something like that."

She was silent for a long while, a length of time he used to study her hair. He loved how soft it was, how it always managed to smell faintly of wildflowers and how, since their promotion to full knighthood, Bastila had allowed it to grow long. He was surprised to find that it became wavy when it grew past her shoulders.

"But there was enough time to do what needed to be done. There was enough to begin to show her how sorry I was. To tell her I loved her."

"And that was important."

"Yes, it was."

He curled his hands around her midsection and she pressed her back into his chest. He loved her warmth, how solid and comfortable and real it was. He loved being reminded that he was, in fact, alive. And he loved that it was thanks to her.

He slipped into the Force, trying between it and Bastila's warmth to gather and send to her all the love he could. Her smile, upon his efforts, could be felt as a tingling in the back of his mind.

And that's when he saw it.

_There stood, in the center of a vast room, a young boy of no more than thirteen. He held two lightsabers with the ease of someone born to it, one the clear blue of a Jedi Guardian and one the sunset yellow of a Jedi Sentinel, though he was barely old enough to be skilled in the use of one, let alone a dual melee style. In the distance there were many more, but this boy was the first and the only one in focus. His sabers were raised against shadows and fog, darkness and mist, but he was determined to protect what he loved. _

When Revan drew back, he could tell immediately that Bastila had shared the same vision. "What was that?" she asked breathlessly, but he had no answers.

As he started to say so, he felt something else. It was a tiny ripple in the force, so faint he wasn't sure he'd felt it at all. "I felt it too..." she started, then trailed off. In the moonlight, he could see her face as it scrunched in concentration for the briefest of moments, then eased into one of the most peaceful, serene expressions he had ever seen her wear.

"What? What is it?"

"Can you not feel it now?"

He did. The ripple's effect was slightly stronger this time, though he suspected Bastila had amplified it by funneling it through their link. He could sense more about its origins. It was a presence in the Force. It was -

"Oh."

"Oh? Is that all you have to say?"

It took several minutes for him to process the revelation he'd just been granted, and in this time, small universes were made, destroyed and remade again.

"This was...unforeseen."

"Yes, it was."

"And it...complicates things."

"Indeed."

His arms finally tightened around her again, his palms coming to rest on her lower abdomen.

"039;Unprecedented039; might be what I should call this."

"No, I believe they call these things 'children'"

He chuckled enough that it was almost a laugh, both at the fact that her sense of humor was much better off for having spent so much time with him and the fact that he found himself deliriously happy all of a sudden.

"'Children,'" he said, trying the word on for size. "I think I like that word better."

They found sleep with little trouble that night, the vision forgotten for the time being. Outside the window, the moons made their final descent and the suns began to rise.

-

Ooh. Destiny.

Also, an apology for not posting yesterday, if anyone worries about such things. I was watching my country decide whether a shifty upstart or an incumbent moron should lead us for the next four years. Personally, I was rooting for the rat in charge of Fantasyland. Alas, he failed to make a significant impression upon the swing states.

Up Next: Fat Hobbit knows!


	4. Tsunami

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part One: The Fallout**_

_Chapter Four - Tsunami  
_

They could feel the Ebon Hawk approaching from two parsecs away. It was as if the ship had a soul, one riddled with Dark Side mischief. Revan had always felt a sort of kinship with the vessel, though it took being captured by the Leviathan and told of his past to understand why. Nevertheless, the ship was family to him the same way its former crew was.

They could see the battle scars from a distance, but they strangely looked more pronounced. Revan genuinely didn't remember the ship looking as bad as it did, and made a mental note to have it all fixed. When it landed at the Spaceport, Revan and Bastila both stood ready to greet Canderous and T3. To their surprise, it was Master Vandar that departed the vessel first, followed closely by Dustil Onasi. T3 stayed aboard. Canderous was nowhere to be found.

The first thing Revan noticed was the disapproving look on the short master's face. Of course, being able to tell that Vandar had any kind of look had become an art form. It came down to the wrinkles and the position of his ears (which were folded backward slightly, a sure sign of annoyance).

The second thing he noticed – though the 'how' of it was elusive – was that he was not annoyed at any of the people standing around him.

"Greetings, young knights. How have you fared?"

Bastila stepped slightly forward and smiled. "Well, Master Vandar. Thank you." She was genuinely happy to see the elder Jedi, he decided, but she could not hide the trepidation she felt. "Might I ask what the nature of this unexpected visit is?"

"And might I ask how you came into possession of the Ebon Hawk? Last I knew, Canderous had possession of it."

He hadn't meant to be so forward, yet the words escaped before he could stop them. _This is no social call._

_So I have also thought, my love._

Vandar's ears shifted to a more alert position and his eyes shifted between their two faces, and Revan did not fail to notice it. He could somehow tell what they were doing. "Your bond has grown stronger." He cast his eyes downward. "And there are other . . . developments."

Both Revan and Bastila stared at the diminutive Jedi.

"You remember young Dustil Onasi, of course."

The boy waved sheepishly from behind Vandar, halfway up the ramp. Though he knew he was there, Revan hadn't yet laid eyes on him. Bastila, on the other hand, had noticed Vandar's companion and respectfully waited for an introduction. Her shock registered on her face, and it was then that Revan remembered that she had never met Dustil on Korriban.

"I thought you looked vaguely familiar," she mused. The younger man simply smiled.

"We have much to discuss," Vandar said. "We should find a place to talk."

Bastila quickly offered up the main chambers of the new Jedi enclave, one of the first parts of the structure to be built. As they wound their way through half-completed construction and busy crews, Revan considered what had happened so far.

_Something is not right, my love. I can feel Dustil's concern. And Master Vandar would not be here personally unless something of great importance had happened that we are not aware of._

_You don't think it's the child?_

_They must have known it was a possibility if we remained together. I fail to see how it could be something so relatively minor that brought them here._

Revan paused mid-stride. It was long enough for Dustil – who had been walking next to him – to start turning toward him, bout not long enough to draw his full attention.

_What if it's about that vision?_

Bastila sighed internally. _We will see, Love._

The Main Chamber was far more lavish that the council chambers at the old Jedi enclave, more reminiscent of the Temple on Coruscant than any spartan settlement. It was a small source of pride for Revan, who had supervised its construction and personally added much of the detail work. They found themselves seated at a round stone table, one that would sink back into the ground if need be.

Bastila urged patience, but Revan had none. "Please, Master. Explain to us why you have come. It's not that your visit isn't welcome, but it is very unorthodox."

Bastila picked that moment to chime in. "Master, is this about the child I carry?"

Dustil's reaction held more of an answer than words ever could. The boy would be a bad Pazaak player.

"I did not know about the child until I landed here. It is a complication I will have to discuss with the council, but it is not why I am here, and most certainly not why I have brought young Dustil."

Their first question answered, they waited for the answers to the questions they hesitated to ask.

"The Ebon Hawk was attacked by a ship of unknown origin a month ago. Your friend Canderous Ordo brought it to Coruscant for repairs. Unfortunately, his assailant followed him."

"Is Canderous okay?"

Dustil laughed a bit at the statement. "Yeah, he's fine. Like a Dark Jedi could kill that man. No, he just got a little banged up."

His answer gave all the information they needed.

"He was looking for me."

"He was a she," Master Vandar corrected, "and yes, she was after you, Revan. You and Bastila."

"Master Vandar and I brought your ship back to you because it could not stay on Coruscant. There's far too much traffic to keep it hidden. It broadcasts a new identification code, but it needs to stay in one place. The council thought that a hangar here would suffice."

Bastila shifted slightly in her chair. "Is there no possibility of anyone following you here?"

"We've done our best to avoid being noticed. The Council is also confident that the Dark Jedi was not able to relay information to anyone else. Truthfully, we took a risk coming here, but they felt they would have put you at greater risk if they'd just sent a message. There's a small possibility that Coruscant's communications net is being monitored."

They all sat quietly for a few moments. Revan and Bastila's combined mind raced through options and possibilities rapidly and efficiently, discarding the more unlikely ideas almost the moment the idea fully formed. When all the other options were exhausted, they arrived at a handful of likely possibilities.

"We are to stay here, then?"

"Yes," Vandar responded. "The new identification codes and a few other slight modifications to the ship should keep you safe should you need to escape, but the Council is confident that you will be safest here for the time being. Young Dustil will be here as a padawan learner, but also as an aid to you. His knowledge of the Sith may prove valuable as you continue to rebuild this place."

"You believe that we may be infiltrated by spies?"

Dustil spoke once again. "The Jedi have little knowledge of the newer refugees. At one point or another, I met most of the better Sith. I can recognize them on sight. For instance, the Dark Jedi that went after Canderous was an apprentice of Darth Bandon's."

"Lovely," Bastila muttered.

"There's something I don't understand, Master. How is it possible for the Sith to be launching any form of concentrated assassination effort? The last reports I read said that the fleet's starships were not able to generate enough power to keep operating now that the Star Forge has been destroyed, and that they are all being rounded up by the pursuing Republic vessels."

"While that report is correct, Revan, you are perhaps underestimating the Sith. So long as one remains, there is always the possibility of another."

"That still doesn't explain why they're coming after us. What good would come of spending limited resources in misguided vengeance?"

He felt more than heard Bastila's gasp as she reached the conclusion he had not.

"They are searching for direction, not seeking revenge." She protectively placed her hands over her abdomen. It was the first time Revan had seen her do that.

"Indeed. And then there is the matter of the child. If the Sith discover his existence, they will stop at nothing to control the boy."

Again, Revan saw an incongruence. He was the first to admit there was much he didn't understand about the Force, but it was rare that the Force failed to supply crucial pieces of information. "You can foresee the potential consequences of his discovery. You can tell it will be a son. How could you not foresee his existence?"

"The answer to this question eludes me, young knight. However, it was far more likely that you and Bastila would have experienced visions over your lifetime that prophesized this event."

"I've never had such a vision, Master. Not until the moment just before I could first feel his presence through the Force."

"Nor had I," Revan added, "but then, I don't remember everything."

"Hmm. It is rare to see such a young lifeforce identifying with the Force this way." He paused for a moment. "I will meditate on this. We will speak again soon." With that, the Jedi Master removed himself from the room, leaving Dustil alone with Revan and Bastila. Not sure of what to say, nobody said anything for a good long time.

Until Dustil spoke up.

"So a kid, huh? Wow. Sure didn't take you two very long. What are you gonna name him?"

Bastila had learned enough control not to let her face show how irritated she was. Revan, instead, chose not to hide it.

"Dustil?"

"Yeah?"

"Anyone ever tell you you're just like your father?"

The younger man's face fell. Revan tried to deny the victorious smirk that bashed against the stony walls of his face.

He ultimately failed.

-

This was kinda like the flour you put in a stew to thicken it up, I guess. It's bland and unimportant until you mix it together.

Up next: Carrots?


	5. The Search For An Armor Plated Soul

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part One: The Fallout**_

_Chapter 5 - The Search For An Armor-Plated Soul  
_

It was a day before Master Vandar emerged from his meditation, a day in which Revan and Bastila had done many important things, but nothing of consequence. They had spent the day working, inexplicably worried about what Master Vandar had to say next. Dustil found his place amongst some of the other padawans, but as he had no assigned instructor he just watched their lessons from aside. Neither Revan nor Bastila managed to miss the fact that the boy had a darkness about him, but Revan had reassured his lover slightly by emphasizing the fact that it was far worse when he first met Carth's son on Korriban.

Nonetheless, Revan felt no small amount of guilt over that darkness. Much of it was his fault.

So after the spaceport walls were properly reinforced and the center courtyard fountain's base was installed, he found himself watching the padawans' lessons in the field outside the construction zone. There were not many of them, just three learners and three masters. They were practicing force technique, and before each of the junior Jedi was a long strip of metal in various stages of being bent.

Revan found Dustil standing beside a tree some distance off. His grave expression didn't change as the elder man approached.

"I wondered if I might speak with you, Dustil."

The boy's face didn't change. "Suit yourself, Master Jedi."

Revan chose to ignore the sarcasm in his voice for the time being. "I wanted to apologize."

Dustil did turn on him just then, and the poor boy's face was a twisted valley of pain and badly-masked anger. "For what, exactly, are you sorry? For defying the council all those years ago? For forcing my father into war again? Destroying Telos? Killing my mother? What!"

The former Sith lord sighed and bowed his head. "All of it."

Dustil's eyes drilled into him for a long while. Finally, he sighed and turned away. "Well. That's nice. I suppose you expect me to just forgive you?"

"No. You can do what you like. I just felt the need to tell you that I regret what happened."

"How can you regret what you don't remember? It's like saying you know what it feels like to break a bone when all you've ever done is cut your finger."

"I may not remember it, but I did it nonetheless. I'm sure it would mean more coming from a person that remembers having wronged you, but this is the best I can do. Honestly, I'm not sure I would feel as guilty if I remembered my past."

"Heh. Maybe."

No more was said. Revan hardly expected an apology and Dustil strangely had nothing more to say to the man who had destroyed his family. And so, they simply stood there watching the padawans twist and tie their metal scraps into Jedi art.

When he felt Bastila's alarm rise, he jumped. Dustil, therefore, noticed the change. He was a smart boy, so he followed the elder Jedi when he took off running toward the compound.

They found her with Master Vandar in the Main Hall, staring at a blank viewscreen. Her face had turned a sickly grey-green, and if not for the lack of any physical evidence Revan would have sworn she'd been sick.

"You've come. You felt it then?"

Dustil looked from Master Vandar to Revan, who wore an expression that was every bit as befuddled as his.

"I felt Bastila. She...it felt like momentary panic."

She found the strength to look into Revan's eyes. "We just received a message from the Council," she began, her voice quivering slightly. "Carth was targeted on Coruscant. He's badly injured. Another Dark Jedi found him and caught him off guard."

Dustil's face shattered into a million fragments of pain. Revan, for his part, did a decent job of keeping himself in control.

"Dustil cannot stay here."

"What!" The young man lashed out immediately, irrationally. He was instantly forgiven. "I'm needed here! I can be useful, if you'd just let me be! But you don't want me here at all, do you? You don't want the reminder of all the things you've done!"

Revan said nothing. Master Vandar raised his hand, motioning for the young padawan to listen. "What Revan said was out of concern for you. He wishes for you to be near your last remaining family should anything further happen. It was a suggestion born of compassion for you, and little else." The Jedi master turned to face his knights. "However, we cannot leave. Our transport does not arrive for another five days."

"He will be with his father then?"

"Yes. In light of this new development, he will be reunited with his father."

Bastila's worried face softened at those words, and Revan felt relief flood through him, more powerful in that moment than the Force itself.

"Did the message mention anything about why Carth was targeted this time?"

Vandar shook his head. "No. However, the Sith's motives are known to us. They seek you."

"Then our friends are paying for our past crimes," Bastila whispered.

Revan nodded. "In an attempt to draw us out. Master Vandar, we cannot allow this."

Vandar's pointed, quivering ears pinned themselves back in the same irritated position they were in when the Ebon Hawk first landed. This time, however, Revan could tell he was the cause of the irritation. "You must trust the Council in these matters, young Revan."

"I do, Master . . . but the Sith won't stop until they've caused enough damage to draw us out. What will that cost be? Carth's life? What of Mission and Zaalbar, of Juhani and Jolee? They are all in danger. Something must be done."

"Something has been done. The transport that will arrive in five days will have all your friends aboard, including Carth Onasi. As I said, young Dustil will be reunited with his father." Dustil's face showed its first hint of real relief all day. "We have taken precautions similar to those we took with the Ebon Hawk to ensure their anonymity. Your friends will be safe, as will you, so long as you are all together in one place."

There was a strange sort of truth in the Jedi Master's words that Revan had never considered before. What had they all accomplished as a group that no fleet in the galaxy ever could? He knew that some of them would become incredibly bored with the idea, but Revan held hope that Canderous and Jolee could yet find something constructive to do with their wanderlust.

"This sounds like an agreeable solution, Master. I thank you and the Council for their wisdom."

Vandar's ears returned to a less strained position, but his face was more wrinkled than normal. "I also have the matter of your child to address with you." He looked at Dustil, who nodded understandably and retreated back through the doors toward the field. With him gone, Vandar seated himself on the floor by the largest window in the chamber.

"The Force has granted me a vision."

If he had failed to grab Revan and Bastila's attention before, this had most certainly gained it. They seated themselves opposite Vandar, side by side and hand in hand as concerned would-be parents should.

"The strength of your child's bond with the Force is most disturbing. While I did not see anything that indicated his fate lies with the Dark Side, his destiny is surrounded by its black mists."

Revan and Bastila looked at each other, then at Vandar. "I'm not sure I understand, Master," Bastla said.

"The vision was unclear. I have told you all I know of its meaning."

"Which is to say you don't understand it either, right?"

Vandar said nothing, merely nodded.

"My concern lies in your actions. One possibility is that the Sith will discover his existence."

Bastila nodded. "That would have a tendency to cast a dark cloud over one's destiny, wouldn't it?"

"But it could also be the darkness within us, his legacy as the son of two former Sith lords."

Vandar nodded. "All of this is possible."

"Possible, yes. And disturbing. Yet it is the explanations we cannot think of that disturb me most."

"Less accomplished knights would not think of this. It was, perhaps, of some benefit that you both have had the experiences you did."

Revan thought frequently on the effect of his past on his future. Had he not been the Dark Lord of the Sith, his life would have been vastly different. He never would have fallen in love with Bastila nor had the opportunity to be a Father. Had Bastila not fallen, she never would have given in to their love, and the result of that could have been disastrous. On that very same hand, however, millions of lives would have been spared had neither of them strayed from the teachings of the Jedi Order.

_039;Perhaps we will never understand why we were meant to walk this path039; _he heard Bastila say in his mind039;_only to learn from the mistakes we've made along the way.039;_

"The more I understand of the Force, the more I find within it that is beyond my comprehension."

Master Vandar smiled. "This, too, is a critical lesson. The wise Jedi Master knows only that he knows nothing."

Bastila sighed. "Then Revan and I must be the wisest Jedi alive."

-

Hmm. I promised a carrot, didn't I?

Okay, sorry. This was more of a potato.


	6. A Little Prophecy Never Hurt Anyone

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part One: The Fallout**_

_Chapter 6 - A Little Prophecy Never Hurt Anyone  
_

_The boy was tall and agile, skilled and strong. The Force flowed through him like half of him was its direct descendant. He was young, yet his ocean-blue eyes and flaxen hair made him seem even younger than his twelve cycles._

_In a clearing, surrounded by several hundred ancient trees, he stood poised for combat, his single-bladed yellow lightsaber ignited and ready._

_With perfect control and serenity, he parried everything thrown at him. With perfect peace and harmony, he deflected all force-motivated affronts. And when his opponent finally stopped, he stood there silently, awaiting his next instructions._

"_You would be a good Jedi." The boy shrugged, and for the first time an emotion crossed his face. It was but for a second, but it was enough._

"_Do you think we will ever leave this place, Father?"_

"_Perhaps one day, my son," came his father's answer, "when we have fulfilled our destiny here."_

_The boy nodded. "Father?"_

"_Yes, Son?"_

_The boy's control over his emotions broke again. "Can you tell me about Mother?"_

_The father inhaled a great breath, then let it out slowly. "What would you like to know?"_

_The boy hesitated just long enough for his father to figure out what he would ask, and his bond with the boy told him everything before the words were finished._

"_How did she die?"_

_Images flashed through the father's memory, images of an attack in space, of crashing far too roughly on the green planet's surface. Images of his beloved wife's pale and pained face, images of her body nailed to the deck by fallen beams while in the final stages of labor. Images of his newborn son, born just moments before she died._

_He could not hide it from his son. He had seen everything._

"_Thank you."_

_Cradling his mother's lightsaber, he walked away without another word._

_- _

Months passed. Their friends had arrived on time and unharmed, and Master Vandar had departed for Coruscant and the Council. The subject of the child was not directly brought up again after that, an unspoken acknowledgement of the fact that there was little the Council could say or do about it now.

Revan was amazed by how well impending motherhood seemed to suit his beloved. He'd heard horror stories from Carth about pregnant women, several of which had succeeded in thoroughly embarrassing Dustil. One such conversation that stood out recounted in graphic detail the various ways his mother had questioned Carth's parentage, honor and sexual orientation during labor. Immediately prior to this description, Dustil had grown green at the thought of a Corellian Pickled Beet, Desert Wraid Sweetbread and Firaxan Tripe Stew getting filtered through his fetal body sometime in the third trimester.

Despite the stark fear these stories had created in Revan's mind, however, one look at Bastila reassured him that nothing of the sort would happen with her. She positively glowed. Her force aura shined like it never had before. It was, he surmised, because she could not help but be completely and genuinely happy.

And a happy Bastila Shan was one of the most amazing things in the galaxy.

The vision occurred roughly six months into the pregnancy. Revan had tried to discuss it with Bastila, but he found to his amazement that she hadn't shared it with him. It disturbed him greatly that, when he brought it up, her ever-present smile faded. It was then that he knew something was wrong.

She, too, had a dream that night. In it, she stood in a swirl of grey mist. In the distance on opposite sides, she could see two faint lights. One was a clear blue, much like the blue of Revan's Heart of the Guardian-enhanced lightsaber. The other was a deep, fiery red the likes of which she had not seen on anything other than Sith Lords' Force Auras. The extreme differences between the two amazed her.

When she looked down, she realized that she held two unfamiliar lightsabers of two strange designs, the blades of which matched the distant lights.

As she related this to Revan, they stood alone on Bastila's hill. The frown she wore deepened as the conversation progressed, mirrored physically by just how protectively she held her hands around her rounded belly.

"I find it strange that these dreams seem so much like Force-guided visions, yet we did not share them."

Bastila vaguely nodded in acknowledgement, but was sill lost in the sea of her own dreams. It was then that Revan realized that she had more to say.

"Neither of them were mine or yours, yet both of them belonged to us." Her eyes finally turned back to meet Revan's. "What would such a thing mean?"

A thread of an idea began to wrap itself around Revan's mind. Somehow, Bastila's mind was also connected to it. It met in the middle, in what became a two-parted dream.

"It means we should be careful," Revan said quietly. "Very careful."

The rest of that night progressed without incident. As per the usual routine, they met their friends in the new reception chamber for dinner. A lot had happened to everyone else that day, and the table was abuzz with an unusual amount of chatter, and there were so many conversations going on at once that Revan – who did not really talk to anyone that evening – could not concentrate on any single one.

After the meal was over, the conversations continued. Bastila was deep in conversation with Carth, undoubtedly discussing Dustil as a baby. The young man in question was as far away from that conversation as possible, standing next to Canderous as he spoke to Juhani. Mission was tinkering with T3 while Zaalbar assisted and HK threatened.

After a short time, Revan found Jolee seated next to him.

"So, Kid. How're things?"

He smiled. "Not bad, Old Man."

"Not bad, huh? Then why are you sitting over here all by yourself looking like the ceiling just fell in on you?"

"The ceiling, huh?" Revan chuckled just a bit. "I guess I have a lot on my mind."

"The kid, maybe?"

"Maybe a little. Actually . . . a lot. I had a strange dream last night. I'm not sure I liked what it meant."

"Ah. Well, that happens."

The two Jedi said nothing for a long moment as they both scanned the room. Bastila, sensing Revan's pensiveness, turned her head toward him and gave him a questioning stare. He smiled back at her as an attempt to make her feel better. He didn't think she'd buy it, but she gave him a half-smile and turned back to Carth. Had she not, she would have missed the pilot's imitation of his son as a toddler, a set of movements that somewhat resembled what a bloated tach would act like.

"So are you gonna marry her anytime soon?"

"We thought about it," Revan admitted. "We decided that in our role as Jedi, marriage seems like a bad idea. We're fine with that. We don't need a ceremony to join us together."

"Yeah, marriage has always been a state of mind, anyway," the old Jedi agreed ruefully. Revan sighed and looked at his feet.

"But, you know, you could just have a _little_ ceremony. Nothing official, of course. And just friends as witnesses."

"I guess we could."

It wouldn't have to be much of a ceremony, just a few words of undying devotion and eternal love spoken in front of their closest friends in the galaxy. They could do that on the hill. At sunset.

Bastila cast her eyes over her shoulder and looked at her lover once more. His smile was more convincing this time, and so her response matched

_Tomorrow._

If she had any kind of physical, verbal or mental response to that thought, it was lost. She pitched over, a sudden wave of nausea overwhelming her at the same moment that her lungs ceased to work correctly. Carth caught her before she hit the floor, but just barely. Her face was contorted in agony as she struggled to breathe, and she could not hear the shouts that ensued.

Revan saw this happen and started to take a step forward as the same thing rushed upon him. His half-extended leg collapsed under weight and his face met the floor slap with a resounding smack.

His vision blurred and darkened. He saw Bastila's body slacken and her head loll backward as she lost her grip on consciousness before his own grip loosened and he followed her in.

-

Happy Halo 2 Day!

(and for those of you who picked it up, congratulations on your pre-order of KotOR II:D )


	7. Interlude: Never Again

**Footprints in the Clouds**

**_Interlude: Never Again_**

_There was a gentle, even breeze on the beach as she stood at the shore. Up above was a nearly clear sky, and what wisps of clouds there were looked more like small footprints than anything else. The sand was warm beneath the little girl's feet, even saturated with the cool, clean ocean water as it was. She looked out onto the vast body of water, the white-blue brightness cast by a local white dwarf star leaving luminescence without intense brightness. She loved no other place more._

_Without having to turn, she knew her father was behind her. In one smooth motion, he lifted her up and into a hug, then held her as they both looked to sea._

"_Do you know what I see out there?"_

_The little girl closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, but even in her mind all she could see was the color of the ocean. "I see blue, Daddy."_

_The man chuckled, which drew her attention to his face. His green eyes sparkled with a mixture of emotions the little girl couldn't quite understand. "I see the color of your eyes."_

_She smiled quickly, knowing that meant he loved her. Then, just as quickly, her face fell into a deep frown._

"_Baby? What's wrong?"_

_Her chin fell to her chest. "I don't want to go."_

_The wind picked up just a bit, blowing grains of sand into their matching brown hair. "Oh, Honey. I don't want you to."_

"_Why are you and Mother sending me away?"_

_He bent to sit down with her still in his arms. He placed her on his lap and hugged her close. "Because you are very special. You have the power within you to change the course of the galaxy, and you have to learn how to use it to help people. If you leave – if you go with the Jedi – you'll be able to do whatever you want one day."_

"_But I want to stay with you!"_

_Her tiny head fell to her father's shoulder as she sobbed her little heart out. He could do nothing but sit there and comfort his only child quietly as their time together grew shorter. The wind picked up as clouds began to form in the distant mountains._

"_I'll always love you, Bastila. Please remember that."_

_She cried until she couldn't stay awake. She cried until the world faded to black._

---

Foggy grayish light was his first indication that he was alive. Somehow, he had managed to survive the intense pain he'd felt, though his mind and body ached with the its fallout. Slowly, one by one, his various limbs and senses started responding to external stimulus. He could feel the chill in the air of the chamber he was in, could hear garbled voices through a hazy tunnel. He tasted blood, though not a lot of it, and a quick inspection of the inside of his mouth made him think he might have split his lip during his fall. He could smell the air and how utterly sterile it seemed.

It was then that he figured out where he was.

"Hey, I think they're coming around."

He was somehow surprised to hear Carth's voice first, but he knew by the number of footsteps he heard that everyone was there. It was then that his Force sense truly returned, as the constantly reassuring presence of Bastila came flooding through over their bond.

_My love . . ._

Finally, his eyes opened. He sought and found Bastila, lying prone and slightly paler than usual on a medical bed. He tried to smile, but couldn't tell if he was at all successful. Her return attempt at a smile was just as tentative.

Her blue eyes held unshed tears, though judging from the streaks of dried tears on her cheeks, the effort was pointless.

"So . . . what happened in there, guys?"

Bastila's eyes slowly closed as a single-word thought ran through her mind. He knew she would be unable to voice what had happened.

"Talravin," he rasped. "The Sith have somehow destroyed Talravin."

There was a silence in the room, though it was not what Revan expected it to be. "We know."

Two shocked pairs of eyes sought out the form of Jolee. "We found out about a day ago."

"How long were we out?" The question was Bastila's. Jolee winced in response to it.

"Four days," Carth supplied.

Bastila's head dropped back to the pillow. Revan turned to face her once again.

_Bastila . . ._

_There are no words for this._

He mentally sighed. _I know._

_And you also know why they did this._

Again, a sigh. _Yes._

Bastila turned her head toward him. Those blue eyes no longer held tears in the. Instead, they were burning with a blue-flamed fire.

_What happens now?_

His eyes closed as the inescapable conclusion overcame him. Realistically, it had been inevitable and utterly necessary from the beginning of the ordeal. Now, it could no longer be delayed.

_We stop this_, he told her. _For the sake of our friends and our future, we put an end to this now._

Though everyone in the room could tell something had passed between them, neither one acknowledged them for a long while. When they finally broke their concentration, it was Bastila who spoke.

"Please relay a message to the Council. Revan and I need to speak with them at once."

---

I feel the need to mention to anyone who might be curious that it was not my intention to leave the last as such a huge cliffhanger . . . although it did produce some interesting feedback.

I should also go ahead and mention that Bastila might continue to get beat up, but I will endeavor to refrain from cliffhanger endings from here on out.


	8. Repeat Chorus

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part 2: The Shadowcasters**_

_Chapter 1 - Repeat Chorus  
_

The night before the Council was due to meet, the new Jedi Enclave on Dantooine was hit by a fierce storm. Though they could barely feel it while tucked safely away inside the compound, it nonetheless provided just enough unsettling energy to keep an insomnia-ridden Revan awake.

He lie listening to the angry wind railing against the strong walls of the building for hours, trying to enter sleep or meditation or something halfway between and failing. Bastila, thankfully, had no trouble sleeping with a six month-old fetus and an extra couple of kilograms sucking up increasing amounts of her energy. Her nights were peaceful and relatively nightmare-free, and what little rest Revan had managed to catch came from watching her sleep contentedly in his arms.

When morning finally broke, their world was covered in fog. The early morning sunlight filtered slowly through the haze. It was beautiful, in a strange way, but tension seemed to hang in the air with the water vapor.

They walked toward the main chamber quietly, making their way from their chamber and across the first courtyard. Even through the morning haze, they could see the clear water glimmer in the fountain at its center and dewdrops glisten on the myriad beautiful plants that surrounded it. They stepped through the delicately carved entrance to the Administrative Wing, tread through the silvery-blue stone hallway and through the carved double doors that separated the Main Hall from the rest of the enclave.

Their friends stood to the sides of the room, silently supporting them. The Jedi High Council was already assembled and waiting for them in their chambers on Coruscant, and the holographic projector in the room had their likenesses placed in a proper arrangement at the front of the room.

Revan took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

"You requested an audience with us," Master Ferdan, a Twi'Lek of incredibly large stature and larger grace began. "We are most willing to offer any assistance and advice that you ask for, but you must realize that any prolonged communication places you at risk."

"It is a risk Bastila and I are willing to take, Master."

The Twi'lek inclined his head. "You are not the only ones in danger."

Jolee emerged from his shadowy corner. "We support them, Master Ferdan."

The Jedi Master nodded. "I see."

A familiar voice spoke the next question. "This is about the destruction of Bastila's homeworld, is it not? The attack on Talravin?"

"Yes, Masters. Talravin's destruction, and the motives behind it."

Master Vandar turned toward Bastila as she spoke. "I see that the Force has chosen to hide nothing from you in this matter. Very well, then. We shall not, either."

A human male, one that they could recognize as Master Hurigo Valsunne, chose this time to speak his first words in the meeting. "Survivor reports have indicated to us that the planet was attacked by two Republic Heavy Cruisers, the _Phalanx_ and the _Foe Hammer."_

Bastila's eyes widened. Revan could sense something strange in the back of his mind, like a memory he couldn't recall trying and failing to come to the surface.

"Master, those ships were destroyed." When Bastila said this, Revan realized why he had felt that strange sensation. He knew without actually recalling the event that he had ordered their destruction.

"The Sith have rebuilt them, in addition to several dozen others. It is not a sizeable naval threat yet, but we have been unable to uncover the locations of their bases. The two that attacked Talravin were named the _Vengeance_ and the _Guilty Spark._"

The thought occurred to Revan in that moment that the strategy behind the attack was brilliant. By attacking Talravin, they had ensured a clear line to inciting Bastila's emotions and possible emergence, and by using former Republic ships, they had created mistrust between the survivors and the Republic.

"Masters, we must do something to stop this."

"The Jedi are already doing what we can, Revan," Master Ferdan said. "However, the future is still shrouded by darkness and evil. We must be cautious."

"And are Bastila and I meant to simply stand aside and wait for the Sith to find another way to hurt us?"

"They are running out of options."

"Yes, but their remaining options involve larger numbers of casualties, Masters!" Bastila took a half step forward as she began to speak. "You ask us to live with far more guilt than any person should bear."

"But the guilt is not yours, young Bastila. That rests firmly with those who performed the atrocity."

Her eyes closed slowly. "That matters very little. I was the cause."

"What would you have the council do, then?"

This was a question Revan had spent most of the night thinking about. It was clear that the Sith had to be stopped, but he knew that getting the Council to allow the two of them to handle it would be nearly impossible. But there was yet another way.

"Use us, Masters. Use us as bait in a well-executed trap."

The Council stirred, and a flurry of murmured conversations ensued. Some were obviously outraged by the suggestion, while just as many seemed to see logic in it. Their conversations hushed, however, as the most revered council member of them all, long-silent during the whole affair, rose to her feet.

"Master Sunrider, do you have something to say?"

The woman turned to Master Ferdan and smiled. When she turned back, she captivated her audience with her soft, grey gaze.

"There is some truth in what you have presented us with," she said evenly. Her voice was calm and serene, as any Jedi's should be. "It is unfair of us to ask of you what we already have. But you must understand that while we regret the loss of so many people, the danger in placing the two of you in an unprotected position is far worse."

"Master Sunrider," Bastila started, a strange sort of quiet resolve coming through her even tone, "So many people have suffered on our behalf, and so many of them did so unwillingly. Revan and I could not live with ourselves if we allowed such a thing to continue. Nearly a year ago, you decided to keep us together to ensure that we have every opportunity to heal after our battle with the Sith. Our bond practically makes us one now, and we have faced our demons and defeated them all. If not to heal, if not to prepare for a future where we would have to deal with the consequences of our actions, why send us to the last place in the galaxy where we would be threatened?"

The answer came slowly as he followed her thoughts, both as they flowed through her mind and as they manifested themselves as words. He felt her come to the same conclusion he did, at the exact same moment he did, as these thoughts and words led them inexorably toward the undeniable truth.

They were not just placed on Dantooine to heal. They were placed on Dantooine to _hide._

The Jedi Council never meant for them to leave that planet.

Master Sunrider's face seemed to soften as the two knights reached this conclusion. "While we are not unsympathetic to their plight, Knight Bastila, you must understand that we feel the risk you would be taking with your lives, and therefore your destinies, is too great." She turned to Revan. "We have nearly been wiped out once by you, Revan. We cannot allow such a thing to happen again."

He felt defeated, beaten by a past he could not remember. He looked to his feet as the weight of what had been said slipped carefully around his shoulders.

Bastila looked over to him, the same sadness he felt reflected on her delicate features. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking the strength she willingly offered him, before he opened them once again and raised his head.

"With my most sincere apologies, Masters, I must disagree with you."

"You are free to disagree all you want, but our decision is firm. You and Bastila must remain on Dantooine."

"We cannot, Master."

"You have no choice. The Jedi Order is all that protects you from the Republic's judicial system. You would be criminals if you ever left."

Bastila looked to Revan, who looked back at her. She nodded to him as she took his hand in her own and held it tightly.

"Then we will be criminals."

Master Fendar stood up suddenly. "Young knights, do not make rash and foolish decisions! You would both be tried and convicted of treason!"

"Master Fendar, we do not know with any certainty that they would be convicted. The Republic owes them a great deal. The senate might see fit to give them their lives in payment for their deeds." Vandar spoke in defense of the two knights, as he often did.

"The Republic rightfully blames Revan for this whole Sith fiasco!"

"And it would be misplaced. They owe him two debts, and can only fault him once."

"Enough." Master Sunrider silenced her comrades with a wave of her hand, then turned back to the two Jedi before her. "What of your child?"

"Master, we do this for our child."

"You have defied us once before, Revan. What makes you think this time will turn out differently?"

"Our love for each other. Our love for our child."

The aged woman seemed to consider this. Master Vandar picked that moment to make a point.

"You must understand that, while the council trusts in your abilities to keep each other out of the darkness while sheltered by safety and serenity, we are concerned that ability might become somewhat diluted if one or the other of you were ever placed in life-threatening danger again."

"We survived once."

"Yes, before you admitted your feelings for one another. Even then, Revan, how close did you come to following her into darkness?"

He remembered her words, her promises of mutual power and passion. Her vow to be loyal, and to remain his. He remembered how much he wanted it.

But this time would be different.

"It would devastate me if I ever lost her, Masters, but it would not turn me."

Master Valsunne sneered. "How do you know?"

He shrugged. "My will would disappear without her. She is my purpose."

Master Sunrider nodded decisively. "If you would leave us to accomplish this, Revan, then we could honestly do little to dissuade you. However, if we were to try it your way just this once, perhaps you may yet be successful."

Revan blinked. _What?_

The masters all turned to look at Sunrider. Some of them immediately nodded, but some of them were still visibly unsure of her suggested course of action. Another flurry of discussion erupted, and the audio was temporarily cut to the feed.

He took the opportunity to look around the room at their friends, who had been mostly silent at the Council's request. He was surprised and glad to see supportive nods and smiles all around.

The audio channel flared back to life once again.

"We will...use you as 'bait,' Revan. The Ebon Hawk will fly to Korriban. We believe there may be a resurgence of Sith activity there. Your flight will be subtly broadcast, so as not to be too obvious. They will likely suspect a trap, but will have no way of knowing that you will be met there by a group of Republic warships."

Revan thought for a moment, temporarily suspending his elation over the fact that the Council had agreed to his request. For a moment, he could clearly see the ensuing battle, the likely players in the game of revenge and the actions each side would take. When he saw that, he realized that their plan was doomed to failure.

Unless one other variable was added.

"I thank the Council for their wisdom," he started, "but have one last suggestion for this plan."

He quickly outlined the last piece of the Gordian knot they planned to throw at the Sith, explaining to them that a small fighter escort would make such a large trap less likely. Moreover, he suggested that Bastila and Revan be placed in one of the fighters rather than the Ebon Hawk, as any force-sensitive would-be adversaries would sense the deception and likely authorize that the full force of the Sith trap be unleashed at that moment. With the enemy under the delusion that they had the upper hand, the Republic fleet would then swoop down upon the Sith incursion and destroy as much of it as possible.

It was a trap within a trap, and the Council agreed to it before ending their conversation.

The sun had broken through much of the fog outside, but the sky was still riddled with angry clouds. They cast deep shadows across the land and within the room.

Canderous cleared his throat after a long spell of silence. "So, when do we leave?"

"We don't need to put you in any more danger," Bastla responded. "We can get the pilot and navigator of the ship we will fly in to take command of the Hawk."

"Whatever," Mission said. "It's our ship! We're gonna fly it!"

Revan frowned. "This is not your fight, guys. You don't have to do this."

"Hah! Like we'd let you go without backup!"

"We'll have a team of Jedi to help us."

Jolee snorted. "Well, ya just got yourself two more."

"Interjection: There is no way this unit will let you venture off to destroy meatbags without it, Master. I am afraid that my skills might deteriorate should I not practice soon."

"Face it, Rev," Carth said. "You're stuck with the lot of us."

Despite the situation, Revan smiled. "I am happy to have your help, then."

HK-47 jittered slightly. "Clarification: While I do see it as my distinct duty to protect you, Master, I am mostly doing this for the sheer joy of listening to the cowardly beg for mercy just before blowing them away. I find it quite soothing."

Bastila rolled her eyes. "If machines had Force Powers, HK would be the Sith Lord."

-

I seriously thought about having Revan and Bastila actually go against the Council's wishes again, but given all that was against them I found no way to get them off Dantooine without their permission. I'm not sure if that is going to diminish my view of their future or not.

Oh, well. Stories and the rides they take their authors on.


	9. The Most Volatile Element

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part Two: The Shadowcasters**_

_Chapter 2 - The Most Volatile Element  
_

Looking back at their frequent travels between planets, it was easy to forget how long it actually took to get from place to place. Their mission had taken just a few days short of 11 months, during which they spent the bulk of their time in the Ebon Hawk somewhere between point A and point B.

The flight to Korriban would be no short jaunt. It was an easy 22 days away from Dantooine, and after factoring in a small rendezvous with the Republic fleet and some needed prep time, they were 28 days away from their final destination.

As their departure grew nearer, he began to worry. It was not a matter of fear for the mission, or even for their lives, for he had little doubt that the plan would succeed. His worries had more to do with the crew, the fact that they had grown used to the open space of a distant planet and the fact that they would now be thrown together once again, and where not even the large area of the Jedi compound had stopped the occasional scuffle, this would now all be contained within the bulkheads of the Hawk.

Revan briefly considered putting in an emergency request for padding on every metal surface in it.

"You039;re brooding. You don039;t often do that."

He smirked at Bastila. "Not brooding. Never brooding."

Her eyebrow shot up at his denial. In response, he snorted.

"I039;m anticipating disaster."

"And I thought you were just turning into a kinrath pup."

His eyes narrowed, but he smiled anyway. "That, my dear, is a very old joke."

There was a flurry of activity around the ship. Various dock personnel were busy taking direction from Canderous, although it was fair to say that most of them were just scurrying along and trying to stay out of the Mandalorian039;s direct gaze and heated wrath. Zaalbar, T3 and Mission were making some last-minute repairs to the hull, and when

Mission accidentally dropped a hydro-spanner on the wookie039;s head Revan was sure that their friendship might have been the only thing that saved her. Carth could be seen in the cockpit milling about the controls, and Dustil was with him. By the identical shade of red their faces wore, they were obviously in the middle of a heated conversation.

Mission spotted the two Jedi standing by the landing bay entrance and waved as she trotted over, her head tails bouncing around and trailing her. Bastila smiled as the young twi'lek came up, but Revan only vaguely smiled.

"Hey, you two. What's up? How's the kid"

"Well hello to you too, Mission. And the baby is fine." Bastila suddenly winced. "Active, but fine."

"Ooh, really! Is he kicking or something"

"Somersaults, really. Here." She took Mission's hand and placed it on her bulging belly. "Can you feel that"

Mission's face went from a concentrated frown to a delighted grin in a matter of moments. "Wow" she whispered. "He's really moving in there"

This genuinely made Revan smile. He could remember the first time he felt their child move. He'd placed his hands on her belly and, at the same moment he had moved, Bastila let the sensation float over their bond. He had felt the strange tingling, rather like an upset stomach but not with any pain at all. The experience had left him awestruck and speechless, and he could only grin stupidly every time he thought about it now.

"So, have you two decided on a name yet"

They exchanged glances and grins. "We haven't completely decided" Revan said"but we have the names narrowed down."

"Well, you could name him Mission."

Bastila couldn't stop a chuckle, and though Revan was grinning he stopped when he took one look at the blue girl's face.

She was turning purple.

"What's wrong with my name, huh"

Bastila straightened up, coughing a little as she tried to counteract the effect of her . . . "small fit of laughter."

_I was not giggling. _

"There's nothing wrong with the name, Mission. It's a good name for a little girl, just not a little boy."

"Yeah? Well, what kind of a name is Bastila, anyway? Kind of reminds me of a stone wall."

The instantaneous response was a look of sheer confusion. "Mission, honestly. I don't mean anything bad by it. It's a lovely name, and you know that. Why must you be so childish about this"

"I ain't no kid, Miss High and Mighty"

Revan watched her face darken and crinkle in frustration. For some reason, he found it incredibly amusing.

_Now who looks like a kinrath pup?_

He knew it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth. Her face went from frustrated to shocked to outright infuriated in 1.2 seconds, and rather than watch her retreating form, he found himself suddenly flipped off his feet and flying through the air before he landed on his back, staring up at the sky. An identical thud to the one he heard in his head actually registered in his ears, and he knew that Mission had shared his fate.

Carth's stories of his pregnant wife floated through his brain in that moment.

"Mood swings."

"Sheesh"

"I should have seen this coming."

"What nettleneedler crawled up her butt and nested"

"She had kath steak for dinner last night."

"It's like that woman was born in a bad mood"

"She hates kath steak."

"I mean, c'mon, Rev! Aren't you supposed to keep her happy or something"

He turned his head to face her, then shot her a glare. She missed it, as she was still ranting.

"New plan, Mission."

She looked at him.

"Do NOT pick on the pregnant Jedi."

She snorted. "Yeah, like I didn't figure that one out just now." She turned her face back to the sky, and Revan was horrified to see the profile of her evil grin. "But just you wait 'till you see how bad she's gonna pay . . ."

Revan didn039;t mean to groan, but he found he couldn039;t stop the noise from escaping the pit of his stomach.

-

Wow. It's been so long since I made a serious effort at fanfic that I've forgotten how tense people get when a character's life is threatened!

I apologize for the brevity of this chapter. I won't be able to post anything for a few days, and I wanted to get something out.


	10. Brood

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part Two: The Shadowcasters**_

_Chapter 3 - Brood  
_

Night had fallen on their last day on Dantooine, and Revan039;s head still ached from where it connected with the pavement earlier that day. He039;d tried healing it over with the Force, but the stubborn lump refused to disappear. He finally gave up, passing it off as the Force039;s way of reminding him to watch what he says around hormonal women.

He hadn039;t seen or heard from Bastila since the incident, and when he walked into their quarters and found her curled up on the bed, a small sense of relief rushed through him. He hadn039;t been too concerned about her, but he had been worried nonetheless. Quietly, he went about preparing for bed, and was in the middle of pulling off his boots when he heard something he didn039;t often hear.

It was the distinctive sound of Bastila039;s quiet sobs.

He sighed as he stripped off his other boot. Choosing the friend approach rather than the lover approach, he sat down on the side of the bed and placed his hand on her shoulder, only to have her shrug away from it.

"Go away."

The second sigh in half as many minutes escaped him. "No."

"I . . . I lashed out at you in anger. I shouldn039;t have done that. I don039;t even know why I did."

"Don039;t worry about it."

She finally turned, and his heart melted when he got his first good look at her puffy, tear-streaked face. "That039;s the kind of thing that leads to the dark side! It039;s the kind of action I thought myself above, and one moment of weakness proved that there is still a chance I may stray from the path again"

He smiled the best he could. Knowing she would refuse anything more, he grasped her hand tightly.

"Honey, you039;re hormonal. This won't be the first time you lash out, and it's only going to get worse. But then it'll be better."

Her response was an odd face, a mix of "kinrath pup" and sheer confusion.

"I should have more control" she said, still wearing the utterly strange face. Revan bit his tongue to avoid laughing. "I am a Jedi Knight, not some silly housewife. I should be able to overcome simple mood swings."

"You039;ve had more success than any normal person I039;ve heard stories about. Carth039;s wife was apparently a terror from three months to term."

"That woman? A terror? He039;s always referred to her as the most level-headed woman he knew."

He laughed. "He also refers to her as stubborn. In any case, this wonderful woman he absolutely idolized drove him up a wall for six months. Here you are, much further along and you039;ve only now started to lose control."

Her eyes drooped shut, and she shook her head. "It039;s not the same, Revan."

"You really are being too hard on yourself."

But then, she always had been, hadn't she? It had just been these last few months that she had changed. It wasn't until that moment that he realized how much.

She finally allowed him to wrap his strong arms around her, and she sighed as she leaned her head against his shoulder. There was a tension in the bond, as if she was hiding a thought from him. It worried him, and he questioned it.

"I keep having these doubts, Revan. I keep wondering if I'm not dooming myself to failure again."

"Whatever would make you think that"

She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. Even in the darkness, he could see the blue in them that he so loved.

"I love you so much it hurts to breathe sometimes. Do you know what it would do to me if I ever lost you"

He smiled despite the gravity of her words. "It would rend your heart and soul from your body and blow them into oblivion."

She gave him an involuntary half-laugh as a response. "Oh. I see that you do." But her face grew more grave. "Nonetheless, I have a strange sense of foreboding about this mission. It must be done, but I feel the dark side swirling around our future."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure we don't give it an opportunity to manifest itself." He pulled her down to the bed with him, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. "For now, we sleep."

It only took a few moments for her to settle. Then, exhausted by a long day's work and hours of sobbing, she passed blissfully into the realm of dreams.

But as she lay there, silent and peaceful, Revan only kept watch. He had his own hauntings to deal with, and his own small demons to face. Since they'd decided to undertake this journey, he'd had more and more dreams that Bastila didn't share, and all of them had involved a future without her, on a planet he didn't recognize, with a son that reminded him so much of his mother that he could hardly stand it.

All of them, that is, except for last night's.

_The twisted face of a grown man stood before him, clad in dark robes and standing in front of a huge bonfire. He wielded one lightsaber of the deepest Crimson red that even the former Sith Lord had ever seen. He had fallen to the dark side, his skin had turned a sickly, dead grey and his dark, desiccated veins stood starkly in contrast. The only thing familiar about the man was his eyes._

_They were the same color as Bastila's._

_As he considered this, they turned color, crossing briefly into a green spectrum as angry, jaundiced yellow overtook them. The man was more than a dark Jedi, he was a Sith Lord._

_But then his eyes turned a burning red, and it became obvious that he was even more._

_-_

Yeah, I know. Overkill.


	11. A Cabin Fever Induced Plotline Hiccup

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part Two: The Shadowcasters** _

_Chapter 4 - The Cabin Fever - Induced Plotline Hiccup  
_

_Day Three, Lunchtime._

Revan sat quietly in the common area of the Hawk, gingerly sipping at a cup of badly replicated soup. He briefly missed the presence of Gizka aboard the ship, as boiling one up with salt and large portions of hot sauce, chopping it into little, tiny bits and adding it to the bland broth might have made it taste just a little better than cleaning fluid.

As he continued fantasizing about better food, Mission bolted through the common area like a frightened tach. His eyes followed her as she skid to a halt at the hyperdrive, flung her hands in the air while screaming at shadows and ran toward the cargo hold. Moments later, he heard her screech just before the entire ship shuddered, sending the steaming liquid he had been trying to drink all over the crotch of his pants.

He yelped as the liquid seeped through and stood up abruptly. Canderous came in from the cockpit the moment he did, which was also just as mission skulked through the common area toward her quarters looking like she'd narrowly escaped a thermal detonator. Moments later, Bastila crossed briefly through the room, a self-satisfied smirk on her flushed face.

Canderous looked back to Revan, who was inspecting his pants.

"Man, if you're that scared of your own woman, there's something wrong with your relationship."

Revan paled as the Mandalorian turned back towards to cockpit. He could just make out the snigger that came from the other man's general direction.

_Day Seven, Mid-Morning_

The sudden jerking about of the ship was so intense that it nearly knocked Revan off his feet. He raced to the cockpit, only to find that Carth and Mission were on top of the matter. Their hyperspace jump took them a little closer than Revan liked to the gravity well of a black hole, but all it did was rock them a little. They were on course, on time and alive, the latter being most important of all.

He suddenly felt a sickening sort of pain rush over his link with Bastila, and shot off toward their quarters. He found her in the fresher, puking her guts out.

"You're sick? I thought that you were over that."

She shot him the dirtiest look he'd ever recalled seeing her shoot. "I thought Mission was too young to drive!"

_Day Twelve, Early Morning_

A loud roar of indignant manly rage echoed through the paper-thin bulkheads of the ship. Revan heard it from the cockpit and rushed out to the common area, just in time to see everyone else scatter like cats in a rainstorm.

Canderous came into the area seconds later, every last inch of his stark naked frame as red as his force aura. Revan's eyebrows shot up as the obviously angry Mandalorian cast peevish glares all about the room. In one hand, he held a pair of underwear. In the other, he held a simple undershirt.

"All right you little blue twerp. What did you do with my clothes!"

A strangled noise came from behind the wall of Juhani's little spot. Suddenly, a blue finger reached around and pointed to a set of cabinets on the far wall. Canderous flung them open, grabbed his clothing and threw the underwear and shirt to the floor before stomping away.

Revan cast his eyes downward. The underwear had little red hearts on it, and the shirt had the word "Booty-licious" printed across it in glittery pink ink.

It was the former Dark Lord's turn to snigger.

_Day Seventeen, Evening_

He was quietly reading somethingorother in his quarters when another loud crash echoed through the Ebon Hawk. He winced, having noticed that the crash sounded less like the normal sound of a human body getting thwacked into a table or lodged in a bulkhead and more like a droid shattering into bits.

Examination of the common are revealed a very agitated Bastila standing facing a battered HK-47.

"Exclamation: Master! Help! Your meatbag concubine is trying to destroy me! You must stop her! It would be a shame for my perfect engineering to be marred or damaged by such a lackluster opponent!"

She lifted her arm. An unseen hand grasped HK by the neck servos and bashed it repeatedly into the wall.

"I." :bash: "Do." :clunk: "Not." :slam: "Like." :thwack: "That." :crunch: "Term!"

And for good measure, the unseen hand lifted the droid to the ceiling, then dropped it to the floor.

Revan winced again. "Honey, it's going to take days to fix that!"

Her cold glare was all the answer he needed. He quickly turned around and retreated back to his quarters before she turned him into the same kind of sparking, twitching scrap heap she'd converted HK into.

_Day Twenty-Four, Mid-Afternoon_

All hell broke loose right after the _Freedom and Liberty_ hailed them.

Mission was on the run from both Bastila and Canderous, having reprogrammed the fresher to blast the Jedi with nothing but cold water and provide the Mandalorian with nothing but pink laundry. HK, upset over its recent "incident," also had it in for a certain pregnant Jedi. Jolee had the misfortune of catching the small flamethrower blast HK had intended for Bastila, singing what little hair he had remaining, and Mission ran into Juhani, then moved just in time to let the rotten fruit that Bastila and Canderous had armed themselves with miss their intended target and hit the bewildered cathar. Carth and Dustil, in the middle of another argument, looked up in time to see both fruit-wielding crewmembers barrel into the common area and straight into them. Juhani, more than a little peeved, chased them with handfuls of what had landed on her. HK came from one end, Mission the other, and the common area was a big mess of bodies when Revan, Zaalbar and T3 arrived to see what was happening.

Somehow, Revan got swept up into the giant pool of bodies. Somewhere in the fray, he lost his pants.

This was the scene when the first Republic officer boarded the ship.

"Uh…sirs?"

They all stopped and looked up.

"The, uh…the Admiral wants to speak with Revan and Bastila briefly before the squadron gets underway."

Revan crawled out from underneath everyone else, snatched his pants from around T3's optical sensor and put them back on. Bastila stopped smacking Mission with HK's captive head and gingerly crawled off the mountain of bodies. They straightened themselves up, then left the Hawk with the officer.

They could both read the young man's trepidation.

"So . . . rough trip?"

Revan snorted. "No. Just about normal."

-

Hee.

Anyway. . . 


	12. Touch the Stars

**Footprints in the Clouds**

**_Part Two: The Shadowcasters_**

_Chapter 5 - Touch the Stars  
_

Revan and Bastila were quickly marched through the well-lit and spartan hallways of the _Freedom and Liberty_. The design and layout, Revan noted, was as impressive as it was efficient. This vessel was the first in what was sure to be a series of cruisers designed with improvements taken from study of the Star Forge technology, and the vessel itself seemed to breathe as a result.

Their journey through the ship had them pass numberless crewmen on the way, and it did not escape their notice when some of the crew glared angrily at both Jedi. There was no small amount of fear coming from them, and Revan could occasionally sense so much anger that he was amazed when they weren't attacked. _It's a very important distinction between the Republic and the Sith, isn't it? _ He heard in his mind. _A Sith would think nothing of attacking, and even the lowest ranks of Republic soldiers have more control_ _over themselves._

Bastila's point made him smile as they entered the bridge.

The chamber was a flurry of activity that stopped as they entered it. Everyone briefly looked up. The wiser officers turned back to their duties soon afterward. The younger ones continued staring.

Much of the lighting that was in the corridors leading to this place was left behind the doors. This place was much darker, a trait common amongst ship bridges to aid the ability to make out shapes against the dark backdrop of space. There was, however, an enormous amount of ambient light pouring through the forward ports. They had decided to rendezvous in a nebula, which would ensure privacy from curious sensor sweeps. As they ventured further in, Revan began to make out the shape of the senior officer on the deck, staring out into multicolored space.

"Admiral."

The woman turned, revealing a half-smile on an aging face. She held her hands clasped neatly behind her back, a pose of confidence and strength that both Revan and Bastila recognized immediately as a hallmark of leadership.

"Ah, Jedis Revan and Bastila. It is good to see you again." There was a spike of tension in the room as she said the names, but it trickled off into a dull swirl in the background soon after. Revan winced as he thought about how each small ripple was the sum of a hundred memories of what he'd done to these people, and how they were memories of deeds he couldn't remember performing.

He felt Bastila's soft hand wrap around his, an effective anchor to the present.

"As it is to see you again, Admiral," she replied for the both of them. The older woman finally let the rest of the smile loose.

"I'm afraid there won't be much time for socializing, as we are all under the pressure of time constraints. I'll be brief." She turned to Revan. "I've reviewed the battle strategy you sent. For a man without a past, you seem to have reclaimed your old abilities well enough. It's nothing short of brilliant, but then you've rarely ever done anything short of that."

He nodded. "Thank you, Admiral."

The Republic officer's head tilted to the side. A brief moment passed before she replied. "You really don't remember anything of before, do you?"

Revan shook his head. "Not really. Just a few flashes, fragments and impressions. I have no clear memories of anything other than the visions of the Star Forge."

She sighed. He had no idea why, but it seemed like sadness had inspired it. "Your accomplishments against the Mandalorians were amazing, and it is sad that the dynamic man that saved us can not recall doing it." It occurred to him in that moment why he had detected that hint of emotion. His borrowed memories stated that Admiral Dodonna had joint control of the Republic Fleet with Admiral Karath after their predecessor had been killed in battle. He had probably worked with the admiral before. "I suppose it is for the best overall, but it is tragic nonetheless."

"I, too, would like to be able to recall my past. Even after researching it, I found very little information about who I once was."

"You purged all Republic databases of any personal information pertaining to you and Malak soon after the end of the war." The Admiral frowned just a bit. "We never did figure out exactly why. I suppose you're not in a position to solve that mystery, either."

Their conversation was interrupted by the deep sound of someone clearing his throat. They all turned to see a short-statured man with salt and pepper hair standing behind them. His dark eyes twinkled with some sort of perpetual amusement, and were oddly complimented by the dark grey and bright orange flight suit he wore.

"Ah! This is Major Zek Brenn. He's the commanding officer of Halo Squadron, which will be escorting the Ebon Hawk to Korriban."

"I suppose that means you're our new commanding officer," Bastila said.

"Yes Ma'am, I do believe it does. Ma'am." He finished with a wink. Bastila immediately liked his humor. "One of my crews gave up their bomber for you two, but you'll need a tail gunner."

"Not a problem," Revan said in response, "I'm not entirely sure I was going to make it away from the Hawk without HK-47, anyway."

He pointedly ignored the gentle inward groan that came from his right.

"Great! I've heard about that thing. With an assassin droid in that tail gun there's not a single Sith in the universe that can shoot you down!"

"So when do we leave?"

"As soon as you get prepped. The squadron's already waiting."

"Right." He looked back to the admiral, who nodded her approval. "Where are we headed?"

"Two levels down. The locker rooms are there. You should change into flight suits and such."

Revan nodded, then turned back to the admiral one last time. "Thank you."

"Despite everything, Revan, it really is an honor."

The fact that she harbored no ill will for him made it easier to walk through the crowded corridors once again. Reaching their intended destination, they each ventured into their proper areas and changed.

Revan found the outfit surprisingly comfortable for a flame-retardant g-force resistant heavy duty spacesuit. He decided to move around in it a bit, jumping in place and jogging across the room. It was when he reached the far side of the room that he saw it.

It was a rest lounge, or so he imagined, facing out from the bow of the ship. The far wall was solid plate glass, revealing one of the most amazing views of a celestial object he could ever imagine finding, let alone having actually seen.

As he was staring in awe at the view before him, he nearly missed the sensory tingling that came along with Bastila's proximity.

Nearly.

"By the Force, I've never seen anything so beautiful."

Her reaction was priceless to him, and he immediately smiled. "These panels were a great idea for this new line of ships. I am truly glad Carth thought of it."

"Carth thought this up!" Surprised, he turned to face her, but lost any comment he was about to make. She had dressed in an ungainly flight suit, one that did little to mask the fact that she was now carrying some twenty pounds of extra weight in the form of a populated balloon hanging off her stomach. He wouldnever, ever say it to her face, but it made her look like a dark grey blimp.

But though the nebula's glow seemed to be absorbed by the fabric she wore, it did a wonderful job of illuminating her beautiful face. He forgot about the outside view immediately.

"Remind me to thank him."

She smiled out to the swirl of light, and a sudden idea popped into his mind. The minute it did, he masked it from her. That combined the fact that he took a seat at her feet successfully drew her attention away from the panorama.

"Revan," she started, her frustration over her inability to read his intentions forcing flecks of concern to lace her voice. "What are you doing?"

"Join me."

Her eyebrow shot up, and she remained motionless.

"Bastila, _sit_. I have to do something before we leave."

She guardedly lowered herself to the floor and sat down. Smiling, he reached across the small distance separating them and took her hand in both of his. Then, he cast his eyes back to space.

"Do you know what they call this place?"

"The Claimedes Cluster."

"No. Well, yes, but . . ." He sighed, then started again. "My . . . memories of a life on Deralia come with an ancient legend. Long before the Republic and long before space travel, the people of that planet explained the nature of the Force through tales of gods. Deralia is close to this sector, so close that on the rare moonless and clear night it shines down as brightly as one of the planet's moons. They thought it was where the gods lived. They called it the Pantheon of Twilight."

He turned back to her. Her initial trepidation left as she listened to his tale.

"They said that seeing the pantheon on the night of an important event was a blessing from the gods."

"An important event?"

"Yeah," he replied. For some reason he couldn't identify, he found himself suddenly bashful, and he cast his eyes downward in response. "Like a birth. Or a wedding."

At last, she found his line of thought.

"I need you to know how deep my love for you goes. I need you to understand that there is not a thing I wouldn't do for you. I would move heaven and hell for you, even if you only hinted that you might want it."

She brought her free hand to his chin and lifted his gaze. Her eyes were sad as she spoke. "Would you go to the Dark Side for me?"

Her worry was evident, but he smiled anyway. "I'd break my way through the Dark Side, and I'd bring you back with me."

It was her turn to smile.

"Destiny seems to be pushing us in the same direction, but I can't _choose_ to follow destiny. I can choose to follow you, Bastila. And I promise you I always will."

The fingers on their clasped hands wound around one another. Staring into Revan's eyes, the pregnant Jedi spoke softly.

"Our souls are forever bound, my love, for better or for worse. There exists no force that can wrest us free from one another, not even the Force that made us one. Yet it is a perilous journey we undertake together, one fraught with dangers that we can't even imagine. What happens to one of us will happen to the other. If we were to fall or fail or die, we would do so as one unstoppable onslaught. This is a fate I accept happily, for I can imagine sharing my life with no one but you."

The cloud of light outside the window stood as a silent witness to their solemn ceremony. When they left the room a few minutes later, its shimmering brilliance lingered.

In ten thousand years, after their line is purged, the Jedi are long forgotten and the universe falls into darkness, that light will remain.

-

Beh. Enough sappy stuff. It's time for some action!

Up next: Is that a ship or a rump roast?


	13. Choose Your Path

**Footprints in the Clouds**

**_Part Two: The Shadowcasters_**

_Chapter 6 - Choose Your Path  
_

The distance between where they were and where they were headed was relatively short - a 37-hour hyperspace jump. With most of their journey behind them and only a number of hours before their encounter with the Sith, tension began mounting, but the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ stayed silent. Revan was surprised by this.

The comm was dead for a few hours after launch, though it was constantly active. The time was filled with a hundred tiny duties that ended the second after they were started. It was almost enough to keep Revan's mind off the horrible silence.

Almost.

He held no fear for what was to come, but a growing concern for Bastila became a genuine worry. His visions of a life without her had given him little sleep of late, and there simply wasn't enough time remaining to recover from the depravation. Small, nagging doubts about his ability to keep everyone safe invaded from the back of his mind every so often.

"Revan, don't worry. This will work."

Bastila's hand slipped into his, and he forced a smile out. Hers was more genuine, and it made him feel better.

Their small craft had just enough room for its three occupants to sit at their stations and stand clumped together if need be. The idea of not really moving for several hours had not appealed to the pregnant Jedi, but so far she was fine. He only detected a mild anxiety from her amidst radiating confidence and faith. She was anchoring him to the present.

But the visions still danced at the edge of his consciousness, threatening to invade in a grand, orchestrated attack. She hadn't asked, and he hadn't volunteered every one of them. It was enough for them both to know that the outcome of some battle very soon would determine their fate. It wasn't clear if it would be this one, or if this was the start of a string of conflicts.

"Halo Five to Flak Jacket, come in."

They both stifled laughter as an annoyed Carth answered. "Halo Five, that is not funny."

"Sorry, Sir," the pilot choked out. He was trying very hard not to laugh aloud on an open channel. "Actually, no I'm not!"

Bastila couldn't hold back her laughter, and varying tones of amusement could be heard simultaneously. Over it all, Carth released an exasperated sigh. "Was there a reason you hailed, Five?"

Revan remembered the face of the man piloting that fighter. He was a happy-go-lucky sort of guy, one that he couldn't imagine taking anything too seriously. At the same time, Major Brenn had introduced him as his most promising young pilot. His name was Jaxsun Urlnum, and he was a Correlian.

A Correlian with a sense of humor.

"Uh, yeah. Halo Leader, be advised that your running lights are blinking haphazardly and there appears to be some sort of sparking in the far blaster turret."

"WHAT!"

There was brief chatter in revolving Galactic Standard and Shiriwook, during which Revan could pick out key words like "revenge," "Mandalorian" and "damn kid." Moments later, the light show ceased.

"Situation normal. Thanks, Five."

"So...what was going on in there?" Jaxsun asked.

"Nothing. It was a loose wire in one of the panels."

Revan leaned back in his seat. "Sounded more like Mission went after Canderous with the arc welder again."

A new voice popped onto the channel. "HE started it! I was just doing some spot repairs to the turret and he came up behind me with a-"

"YOU came up behind ME with the arc welder! I was prepared _this time_."

"You tried to rivet me to the bulkhead!"

"I wasn't aiming for anything you'd miss!"

"Guys, ENOUGH!" Carth's agitation could be felt across space. He received a disdainful snort in response.

"Look, Flyboy, just because you're piloting this bird doesn't mean I'm gonna listen to you. The kid was manipulating the truth at the expense of my honor."

"Hey! I ain't no kid, you...you..."

"Oh ho! Run out of insults so soon, did you!"

The rest of the squadron was having trouble breathing through peals of laughter. Bastila was holding her head in her hands, but he could see the smile she was trying to deny slowly take over.

"Canderous?"

"Yeah, Revan?"

He saw an opportunity. "Why didn't you just wear the underwear instead of walking into the common area naked?"

The Mandalorian snorted again. "Because there is no way I would ever give her the satisfaction of such a victory."

Bastila let a bark of laughter slip loose before she found her control again.

The banter continued for hours, well into the standard night. When most of the crews were resting, it was only Revan, T3 and the pilot of Halo Four that remained awake. HK had been switched off.

Nabor Gald was a quiet man. His service record told the sterling story of a born fighter. He graduated at the top of his class at the University of Coruscant, then signed up just after the start of the Mandalorian War. Decorated twice for valor, once at Malachor V and again at the Battle of the Star Forge, the man had served with distinction and honor despite losing his wife and son on Taris.

The last thing he noticed was that Nabor Gald's original homeworld had been Talravin.

_The Sith have a serious problem with worlds whose names start with the letter' T,' it seems._

A low chuckle came through over the intercom, and he realized too late that it had been an under-whispered mutter rather than a quiet thought.

"They do. I like to think the reason for it has more to do with other words that start with 'T.'"

"Oh? Which ones?"

"Well, there's Truth. Temperance. Talent."

Revan laughed, but quickly quieted when Bastila stirred. "The dark side sure has a habit of wasting that."

Gald sighed. "Trust."

The former Dark Lord nodded. "Trust is a very dangerous thing if you're a Sith, but it's a dangerous thing, anyway."

"Dangerous, but necessary. You can't go through life without trusting in something, even if it is just your own instincts. That kind of uncertainty eats a man alive."

Revan smiled ruefully. "Have you ever _seen_ a Sith?"

"Heh. Good point."

In the lull that followed, Revan took the opportunity to run a few quick system checks. In the process, his eyes passed over the sleeping woman in the seat next to him.

Though conversation had been kept light in the hours before she passed into slumber, her face was creased by worry in her sleep. It seemed to deepen for a few moments every so often, as if her dreams became more intense, and she was fighting against them.

"So I understand you're going to have a family."

He smiled. "Yeah."

The comm was silent for a long time. Revan imagined he knew what thoughts were going through his mind.

"What was your family like?"

A hint of a smile came through in the man's voice, though it must have been tinged with sadness. "You Jedi. You're always so sure about other people. What if you were wrong, and I didn't want to talk about it?"

Revan said nothing. After a moment, he didn't need to.

"My wife was...beautiful. The kindest woman I've ever met. Her heart was so genuinely pure and good you sometimes wondered if being in her very presence was enough to make you burst into flame. I can't tell you how many times we were up all night trying to help just one person. She couldn't sleep if she had to wait one night, and on Taris...well, let's just say she didn't sleep very much.

"I hated having her there. I was afraid that all the injustice on that planet would be a horrible strain on her, especially after we found out about my son. But she got mad at me every time I suggested moving. 'I can do more good here than any quiet place you'd move me to,' she kept telling me. 'I won't let you take me away from these people.' I really regret not moving her now."

"By the sound of it, she would have been upset at you now if you hadn't let her stay."

Gald chuckled. "Yeah. One of the officers on the clean-up crew told me that she saved a lot of lives. She lived to help. I can take comfort in the fact that she died doing what she loved. But my son...he was on an outbound shuttle with a friend of my wife's. The Leviathan shot it down."

Revan closed his eyes, remembering the tense moments of their escape. It suddenly occurred to him that they must have been tracked as the only ship to have made it past the blockade. For some reason, that had never occurred to him before.

"I'm sorry."

"It would be easy to blame you, but I can't. The Sith killed them. They just happened to be looking for Bastila."

Again, Revan found his eyes falling on his beloved. _Beloved wife_, he appended, smiling.

"What are you having? Do you know?"

"A boy."

"A boy. Wow. They're great. You're gonna love it."

The visions prodded him again, and he had to wince for a second. "Yeah, I hope so."

"You don't sound convinced."

Revan leaned his head back against the back of the seat. "There "

"What? With you and Bastila? Or is this another Jedi thing?"

Perhaps it was the threat of impending danger that brought him to speak, or maybe the man was just so easy to talk to. Perhaps it was simply his need to fully voice his concern to someone other than the Ebon Hawk crew, or to the person he was most concerned for. Whatever it was, it didn't matter.

"The force grants us visions, Bastila and I. These visions had always been shared through a force bond we have with one another."

"I've heard of this bond. They say it's what saved you after Malak's betrayal, and that it saved her after her fall."

"It did. The Jedi are wary of it though, and for good reason. It grows stronger every day. Nobody is sure of what would happen if it were suddenly severed."

"You mean if one of you died?"

It was a blunt way of stating the one thing that might cause him to walk a dark path again. "Yeah. Exactly."

The words settled over the channel. "You mentioned visions," Gald said a moment later. "Shared visions. I'm guessing you haven't shared all of them lately."

"No. It started when we found out about the child. Ever since then, I've had dark visions involving a life without Bastila, or a man that I can only assume is my son straying from the light. I've even had this one vision, one that repeats itself sometimes, where we're in a battle over a bright blue planet, and..." He trailed off, not sure how to phrase it. It turned out it wasn't necessary.

"Well, there's a bit of good news, if you're concerned about that one."

"What's that?"

"Korriban is most definitely not bright blue."

Revan laughed. "No. Definitely not."

"Anyway, I can see where that would concern you. It would scare me beyond salvation. But those visions are often there just to warn you about a possibility, right? This is something you can change."

"The frequency of them, especially lately, makes me think I'm already starting down a road that will lead me there."

"Well, you might have. But it's obviously not too late to change something."

"Can that be enough, though?"

"There's always just one feather that tips the scales. In this case, you should probably avoid battles over pretty planets."

At the least, there was nothing to be done about it now. And he felt better having talked it out with a neutral party.

"What was your son's name?"

"Thad. What will your son's name be?"

"We haven't discussed it too much. I don't have much of a past to offer him, and Bastila insists she'll just know when she sees him."

"Women and their strange notions." Gald paused as he checked something. "Eh. I guess I need to sleep now. Halo Three, wake up!"

The low, rumbling sound of a very large man grunting came over the com. "Wha? Whaddya want?"

"Wake up, Spark. It's your shift."

A few more grunts came through the airwaves. "Lemme be, Gald."

"Wake up, you lazy Bantha!"

Revan laughed as the man grumbled yet again. "Fine, fine. I'm awake."

"Good. I'm signing off. Hey, it was good talking to you, Revan."

"Same here," he replied.

That moment marked eight hours until ETA, and for the next four, all Revan heard was the occasional grunt from Halo Three and a little shuffling in the Hawk. Bastila, thankfully, now appeared to be sleeping peacefully. When the standard night ended, every member of the little excursion busied themselves with pre-battle checklists and diagnostics.

And then, finally, zero hour arrived.

The drop out of hyperspace was rougher than normal, though Revan hoped it was simply the unfamiliar ship. Far ahead of them was the planet Korriban, its dark side power swelling ominously. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine - this place was always a harbinger of doom.

He could feel Bastila's equal parts trepidation and determination. He offered her a smile, and she returned it.

"Halo Leader, this is Halo Five." Jaxsun's voice boomed out over the speaker. "Picking up two ships on sensors, closing fast."

"Stand by." Carth was at the helm once again, with Zaalbar or Mission as a likely co-pilot. "Their configurations match the _Phalanx_ and the _Foe Hammer_. We found them."

As he finished speaking, the massive cruisers came into view. The _Vengeance_ - or the _Foe Hammer_ - took point, followed by the _Guilty Spark_ - or the _Phalanx_. Closing in on Korriban, the huge ships moved to cut off the small Republic contingent, arcing across the line of the sun and casting shadows on the hulls of the squadron fighters. Backlit by the giant fireball, they looked like huge, looming phantoms.

Without thinking about it, Bastila immediately fell back into a meditative state.

"Bastila?"

She did not respond.

_Bastila!_

_My battle meditation can only help us!_

_But over-exerting yourself was not part of the strategy!_

Though she didn't expend much energy in doing so, she sent feelings of reasurance along with her words_. I will be fine, my love. Now pay attention to where you're going._

He looked up just in time to avoid colliding with the Ebon Hawk.

"Condescending Exclamation: Master! What are you doing!"

"Damn, Halo Seven," Carth yelled. "Watch it!"

Revan clenched his teeth together. "Sorry," he muttered.

"All right, Halo Squadron. Tight formation, just like we planned."

Revan fell in between Halo Three and Halo One, just forward of the _Hawk_. They flew as one even, solid diamond of Republic cunning toward the underbelly of the frontrunner. They managed to make it just to the ship, blasters firing wildly before enemy fighters came in to make their day all the worse.

"Break off now!"

Carth's order was followed by a starburst of ships. Half a squadron of Sith fighters took off after the _Hawk_, firing near it but not at it as they attempted to herd the ship towards the _Guilty Spark_. The fighters and bombers headed toward the same ship on an attack run.

"War Cry: Die Meatbags, Die!" came the shout from the back of the bomber. As Revan dodged fighter after fighter, either Nabor Gald at his wing or HK at his tail managed to shoot them down. He cast a glance out to the _Ebon Hawk_, watching it lead the fighters that chased it around in a wild hunt. They definitely had their work cut out for them.

He lined up with the conning tower and dipped low, level with the bridge's line of sight. At the last minute, he swerved up and over the bridge, rolled over and fired off six proton cannon shots at the weapons array. When he broke off, a loud cackle of amusement filtered through HK's vocabulator.

"Glowing Praise: Excellent shot, Master! Can we do that again?"

He was about to respond when the ship was rocked by a deflected shot. A quick glance at the sensors indicated that there was no damage, but a quick glance to the side made him notice that Bastila wasn't doing well. Her face was unnaturally pale and bathed in droplets of perspiration, but as he reached out for a mental response he was disturbed to find the link silent.

The disturbance lasted only a second more before a new disturbance became his chief concern. Bastila's concentration broke, punctuated by an uncharacteristic growl of frustrated pain. At that same moment, he felt her barriers crumble and a ripping, searing pain unlike anything he had ever felt shot through his mind. A moment later, it was gone, and Bastila was silent again.

"What was that!"

He couldn't feel the effect of battle meditation any longer. Instead, he go the feeling that she was just going into a meditative state to stave off the pain. "That," she said calmly, "was a labor contraction."

He looked up in shock, again just in time to avoid a collision.

_That is not helping__me at all!_

"Sorry!" he growled before rolling the ship again.

Without Bastila's help, the Sith found a new sort of confidence. Though none had been lost out of the squadron yet, they were all being pursued in earnest.

"Damn," Revan muttered. "They should be here already."

Another explosion rocked the ship, but there was no damage once again. "Abrupt Apology: Sorry, Master! That Meatbag's decimated engine went critical a little closer than I would have liked."

"Don't do that again," he replied curtly. There were now three Sith fighters tailing him closely, and it was all he could do to keep them from blowing them out of the sky. Every few minutes, a weak apology from Bastila followed a spike of pain through his head.

_This is not going well._

"_Harbinger_ to Halo Squadron, do you read?"

Three Republic capital ships emerged from hyperspace at that exact moment, and Revan found himself breathing for what seemed like the first time during the battle.

"Halo Leader to base. About damn time!"

The Sith fighters abruptly cut off their attack on the fighters, regrouping by their ships. Four more squadrons of fighters were launched from the new arrivals, which sent the Sith into a full retreat.

But the Republic planned for nothing of the sort. The last ship arrived, cutting off the Sith escape route, and began blasting the _Vengeance_ with its gun turrets, proton cannons and two squadrons of ships.

It was then that crew of the _Guilty Spark_ seemed to be clued in on the ruse. The bulky ship turned straight toward Halo Seven, blocking out the sun in the process. Volley after volley of fire was sent in their direction, and they found themselves pursued by what was left of the original Sith fighter squadrons.

"Halo Leader to all available fighters: Protect that ship!" Carth ordered, but it came moments too late. A stray cannon shot sliced through the bomber's shields, slicing the compartment in two and just grazing past the small hyperdrive. The engine, its components fused and confused, started cycling up.

"What's going on?" A dazed Bastila turned around in her seat, only to see the blackness of space and a slightly shimmering force field. "Where's HK?"

"Hang on, Dear. I have to eject hyperdrive before we blow up."

He started running the commands through the system, then turned around to pull the release lever when he noticed the Guilty Spark, its hull sparking where green blasts were striking it, coming up quickly through their new aft window.

Several things happened all at once. The _Guilty Spark_ suffered cascade failure just as its hyperdrive engines engaged, which was at the precise moment that Revan's own disengaging hyperdrive engine decided to launch off on an unplotted course. The resulting chaos produced two wild streaks of angry, burning light on the black canvas of the stars.

And when it dissipated, neither ship could be found.

-

Sorry for the long wait on this one. It proved harder to write than I thought it would.

I should also apologize for yet another cliffhanger. Yes, I know it's an "EVIL CLIFFY!" but it wasn't my intention to post this alone. I'll get the next part up when I'm more inspired to write.

Which brings me to the next part of my little note: Happy Chanukah, for those of you that observe it (and those of you that don't), and...good KOTOR II Playing! WOO!

We won't be seeing much of each other for the next week or so...


	14. Interlude Two: Descent

_Thirty-seven hours and thirty-two minutes and a Level 25 character later, I now know what I can do with the rest of this story. . ._

_Anything I want._

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Interlude Two: Descent**_

The ship shuddered and rolled, pitched and flipped as it spiraled out of control. In the vacuum, with nothing to stop them, it might have done this forever. This was the first thing Revan noticed as he began to emerge from unconsciousness. The second was the stars as they shifted and blurred and shifted some more, like the changing currents of the ocean depths, and looking either forward or backward made Revan somewhat sick.

His head felt fuzzy, like every thought was lined with fur. It brushed across the surface of his mind, lulling him into a state that could easily be a comfortable stupor if not for the ambient noise of pain.

He knew he'd hit his head against the console when they fell out of their little hyperspace leap when he looked down and saw the spattering of red on the control console. There were other injuries, doubtlessly, but the bulk of the fire his nerves were enduring came over the link with Bastila.

He looked over her seat, noticing that she, too, had hit her head. It didn't seem bad -- just a small cut above the eye. She tried not to completely shut her eyes as the contractions hit, breathing through the pain calmly as any Jedi would. He could feel them, though. He was amazed she was still conscious.

"I'm glad you're back, Dear," she said, clenching her teeth as another wave started to hit. "I could really use your help with this ship."

"Where are we?"

"The navicomputer is down. I have no idea."

He turned his attention to the console, squelching the sick feeling that struck him as the ship pitched again.

"What's our status?"

Her response was a grunt, followed by a shower of sparks through their force bond. He turned to see her firmly in her seat, her arms wrapped around her abdomen.

"How long was I out?"

"About thirty minutes. Do you have any more questions or may I concentrate on making sure our son doesn't merely plop down on the deck?"

He sighed. The contractions were about fifty seconds apart. Something needed to get done.

An engine diagnostic revealed that only one of the two thrusters was still active, but that would be enough to let them land somewhere, assuming they were anywhere near a stable planet. A few quick changes to the power relays behind his head would reroute enough power to get it online.

When the thrusters cycled up, the ship's wild movement was much easier to correct. In seconds, the starfield's swimming ceased.

A planet had been hung against the black curtain of open space, one that seemed to possess an inner glow. It shone like a beacon before them, a beacon of hope and promise. Any wayward space traveller would gladly fly toward its bright blue light.

Except that Revan had seen that planet before, and he had prayed never to see it again.

Bastila undoubtedly felt the strange mix of emotions that ran through him at that moment. She turned her tired eyes to him as his eyes remained fixated on the planet.

"There is no fear, my love."

"Now you're just mocking me."

She winced as another contraction hit. "I'm not sure he is going to wait much longer."

He swallowed his trepidation as they neared the planet. _Everything will be fine_, he thought.

Then they hit the atmosphere, and the thrusters went off-line.

As they descended at a rate he didn't care to calculate, he could hear Bastila's verbal manifestation of her physical pain. He was briefly thankful for this ship's atmospheric shielding, as it was probably the only thing keeping them from burning up on entry. As they started to slow and the flames began to dissipate, the ride got rough.

Bastila cried out as the ground first came into view. Revan desperately tried to get the engines working again, but if they were reparable before they hit the atmosphere, they were likely toast now. All he had left were the wings, rudimentary directional controls and air brakes that were vulnerable to the heat of re-entry.

To his horror, he realized that he had been here, in this moment, several times before. In his dreams, the air brakes failed to stop their rapid descent. In his dreams, the ship crashed horribly. In his dreams, Bastila has just enough strength to give her life to her son.

But as those visions cavorted about on the surface of his brain, something occurred to him that the visions had never tried..

So he concentrated, forcing everything he was into the act of slowing and stopping the ship before it reached the surface below. It takes all of his focus and willpower to try using the Force instead of the craft mechanisms to slow their descent, and the deeper into this meditative state he fell, the more distractions came to him.

Memories invaded his consciousness, screaming back through and demanding to take back the places they once held. They were memories of the determined, charismatic leader that duped four generals and his best friend into following him into darkness, into thinking that the council was wrong.

They were of the man that had convinced them to believe that they could stop the looming darkness, only to help bring it about all the faster.

In the force-guided sight of the ship hurtling downward, Malak walked up to his mind's eye. The lower part of his face was still covered by a mechanical vocabulator, but he knew that the man would be smiling maliciously if he could. His hand reached outward and, unable to stop it, he was taken from the present into a past he could not remember.

Revan found himself facing Malak in what resembled some of the tombs in the Valley of the Sith Lords. Energy crackled in every corner of the chamber, and the vision was so strong that Revan could feel the power of the place as he had the first time he had walked through. Malak was younger now, his original jaw replacing that horrible mechanical contraption. They stood side by side, as good friends would, and Malak began to speak.

"She was disappointed in us. I could see it written on her face."

He could hear himself respond, yet said nothing. "It will be harder without her. Her powers of Battle Meditation are such that we might have won the war quickly."

"But we will win without her," the taller, larger man responded.

"Yes, but it will cost us many more lives, and many more planets."

Malak sighed beside him, and spoke of her once more. "She was so loyal to the council, Revan. She nearly made me doubt what we are doing."

He could feel the resentment as it crept through the mind of his former self, then felt it squashed by his overriding logic. "She is so young. I am not surprised that she would be afraid to join us. But this will be a long and costly war without her, and I think she will one day see beyond her stubbornness and come around to our way of thinking."

The vision paused. Everything in the cave – or tomb, if that was what it truly was – stilled. Only Malak moved, walking around to face him.

"She was the only one to turn from us, in the beginning," he repeated, his voice just above a whisper. Slowly, others started to fade into view behind him. "And I made her break in the end. I took pleasure in watching her struggle against herself, against the knowledge of you she carried within her. When I found her love for you, when I discovered how deeply her passions ran, it was a simple matter."

He walked around, stopping just beside him. He leaned in so that his words would have little distance to travel.

"You betrayed yourself when you returned to the Order," Malak said. "You knew the truth about war, that it is necessary for the balance of the universe. You knew the True Sith, and their love for war. And you knew your own need for battle. Now…what a shell you have become."

As he finished, the face of a human female Jedi came into view, taunting him with its pallor and the dark lines striping it. "You betrayed yourself, Revan, and those that followed you so willingly into war. You turned away from the path you started, demoralizing us and making us doubt. We must never doubt in war, you said. And yet you left us behind."

"You betrayed yourself, Revan," another pale man said. "You betrayed your plans and your own great deeds, the promise of a united galaxy free of petty skirmish. You turned away from the creation of an Empire capable of protecting itself, only to insure that all the suffering will be for nothing."

"You betrayed yourself, Revan," another female, another marked face. "You betrayed your own powers of foresight and tactics. You've turned away from the great future you were planning, the future Golden Age that would ride on the coattails of your conquests. You turned away from the end of slavery, the end of poverty and the end of ignorance, and now the Republic will endure with all the injustices intact, or the entire galaxy will fall into chaos."

Two more, most familiar faces appeared. The first was another human female with reddish hair and hazel eyes. Her face was not marked by the Sith, but she held her scars, nonetheless. The other was an old woman in Jedi robes.

"You betrayed yourself, Revan," the younger one said. "You brought about more death and destruction with your resistance to the Sith Empire than you would have at its helm. Your doubts as Darth Revan and your lack of attention to your apprentice could only have resulted in the Jedi attack, and your actions after have only brought about pain that will last for years to come."

"You betrayed yourself, Revan." The smooth tones of the older woman's voice made his blood immediately run cold. "You allowed your destiny to be dictated by others. You allowed your destiny to be dictated by the Force. And perhaps worst of all, you've allowed your destiny to be shared by that foolish girl. She could never see what you saw, the promise of the greater threat if you did not act. She does not see it, still. She places blind faith in the whims of the Council, and she will pay for that . . . as will you."

The ghosts of his past fell silent as they waited to see what he would say next.

"I cannot tell you the motives behind most of my actions," he said at last. "I do nto remember them. All I know is what I have seen since.

"All of us have contributed to death on a massive scale. We are all responsible for some of the greatest massacres in the history of the Republic, and as justified as we thought it was, we have made every living thing in this galaxy pay for our actions. If the suffering of one person, just one person could have been avoided if we had done something differently, it would have been worth that difference. What we built was a legacy of Death, and that legacy will end as all evil must."

He turned to the old woman. "The more people that try to make a difference, the greater the act's effects. Inaction, or negative actions, breeds nothing but more of the same. A kindness, no matter how small, always has some small chance at producing a positive effect.

He turned to the woman, the only one of his generals spared the mark of the Sith. "The difference I made, the good deeds I performed on so many worlds has come a long way towards healing the damage and redeeming the dead. It was not a lot, but it helped enough that those small deeds will be the inspiration behind the salvation of this galaxy one day."

Finally, he turned to Malak. The man's jaw had once again been replaced by his cybernetics, and fury was written all over what remained of the man's face.

"I did not betray myself," he said to his former apprentice, "I have just found a better way to express myself. I did not deny myself the opportunity for power, simply ended my craving for it. I have a chance at happiness, a chance for my own inner peace. Love brought me this chance, as it brought Bastila back to her own true self. Love – knowledge of it, the feeling of it – brings more power than the dark side ever could, more than you could ever imagine. Love is what defeated you on the Star Forge. Love . . . the one thing neither Jedi nor Sith is allowed to experience.

The infuriated rage exploded outward in a blinding red haze, and all of the visions swirled out of focus. The cave darkened as his legs gave out, and he felt himself falling again . . .

"_REVAN!!"_

The surface of the planet was nearing. He could feel it as they hurtled toward it, their speed unchecked. The air brakes had been pulled and the directional controls has evened out their descent. Through his connection to the Force, he felt what needed to be done next.

He fell deeper and deeper into concentration, picturing the Ebon Hawk from the exterior as it raced over treetops. The momentum of the spaceship gradually dissipated against artificially-dense air, until the ship was essentially held aloft by sheer will alone. It never even occurred to him that he had stopped actually flying the ship halfway into the trance he was in.

At the last possible moment, the engines kicked back on, and the reverse thrusters fired. The ship landed with little more than a slightly jarring thud. From what he understood of engines, what happened wasn't physically possible. He decided not to question it yet.

When he looked over to Bastila, he was relieved to find that she was uninjured. There were no support beams sticking through her chest, there was no blood smeared across her flawless complexion. She was beautifully and mercifully whole…and her glare was going to freeze him solid if he didn't do something for her.

He held Bastila in his arms, having unstrapped her from the seat. He realized that she was in more pain than he thought, as she was limp in his grasp.

"Greeting: Master! It is a good thing you are as skilled a pilot as you are. Anyone else might have crashed, and I would likely be little more than scrap upon the side of a cliff."

"HK! You're alive?!"

"Chiding Retort:" the battered droid responded, "It takes more than a proton cannon and carbon scoring to destroy me, Master." HK's neck servos directed his head downward. "Observation: It seems as if there might be a casualty, after all. How delightful."

He ignored the droid as he carefully stepped around the small common area of the ship and placed Bastila down on the deck. "Search this ship for supplies, HK. We need blankets and a medpak."

"Reluctant Resignation: You're going to save her, aren't you Master?" The droid began to search the ruins of their bomber for supplies.

Her weakness made him worry about the other possibilities. Alone and on a strange planet, with few supplies to speak of, any complications would most assuredly result in death. But he felt her through the Force, and saw the agitation on her face.

"I am alive, Revan, just in a great deal of excruciating pain," she said.

He suddenly became aware of something on the fringes of his awareness. He immediately looked up, only to see nothing. He looked down at her: she had felt it, too.

"I'll be right back."

He hopped out of the bomber and took a quick surveying glance about the exterior of the ship. He could feel it…but could see nothing. In the distance, there was a path through the trees, perhaps to another clearing, he didn't know. Perhaps this world was inhabited, and he felt the wildlife.

The questions were set aside.

"Exclamatory: MASTER! Your meatbag concubine requires your aid! I am used to carnage, but _this_…this is _wrong_!"

He was there in moments, and reached the area just in time to see the ensuing carnage.

"For the last time! I. Do. Not. Like. That. Term!"

Before HK could react, Bastila had sent him flying into a bulkhead. Revan winced. "Again, that will take some time to fix."

"I don't honestly care right now! I just want him out!" She screamed as the last word ended, drawing the last syllable out until her lungs had emptied. Gasping for breath, she closed her eyes in an attempt to calm herself, but Revan could tell it wasn't working.

"I don't want to be like this! I don't want to be helpless again!"

He took her hand. The link was jumbled, eight different types of pain coursing through her mind from eight different sources.

"Breathe, my love. You have to breathe."

She could only gasp for breath. Not nearly enough of it was entering her lungs to help, however.

"Bastila--"

"He used you, Revan. He used my love for you. He took that love from me, and left me empty. He gave me the knowledge of what you had done, what you planned to do, and what would have happened, anyway. He showed me . . . he did things . . . thy all felt so real, like they had actually happened, but it was all illusion. He had me hating my own feelings by the end of it."

"Bastila, don't--"

"It was never you at all! It was me! It was my own weakness that allowed me to be so helpless! And I am weak and helpless once again!"

"Bastila!"

He used his free hand to bring her tear-filled eyes to his own. "You are not weak. You are exhausted. You and I have been through too much to be weak. But you are stronger than this. You can end this now."

Her head arched backward as her muscles clenched once more, allowing yet another wild scream to be released into the air. "I can't do this! I don't have the strength!"

"You do. You have mine."

He leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the lips, using the contact to transfer his own energy to her. It was much as her own attempt to save his life must have been in the beginning, back when their bond was forged.

And when he pulled away, he could see the resolve in her beautiful eyes.

The next few minutes passed quickly. The baby's head emerged within two more contractions, and with one final, mighty push Bastila cleared the infant from her body. She fell backward, exhausted by the exertion. It left Revan holding the baby in his arms.

The boy made few sounds, and Revan was fairly certain that newborns were supposed to cry very loudly. But the baby was breathing and healthy, and the force rolled off him like light from a sun.

"Let me see him," Bastila said quietly. Smiling, Revan handed the baby to his mother. He still did not cry. He was simply content with his parents.

Her smile made up for the last few hours of terror, and as he watched her play with the baby's tiny fingers and toes, he knew this was what he wanted, what he'd truly been meant for his entire life.

The feeling he had earlier came back to him, and he looked out the hole in the ship once more. This time, there were about a hundred beings standing outside, all of them staring directly at him.

He stood up and their eyes widened, but they moves. He sensed them in the Force, but sensed no hostile intentions. In fact, they were like the Force itself: calm, steady and constantly moving.

Yet they all stood still.

They were a short, human-looking people with tanned skin and well-built bodies. They covered only the necessary areas of themselves with an earth-tine fabric, yet apparently had the skill to produce beautiful adornments for their shoulders, arms and feet. It reminded Revan of primitive armor, but he felt that wasn't its function.

One of them, the most adorned and oldest-looking one of the group, stepped forward.

"A'a netjer! Tjen em a bew? Tken em-tjen?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't understand what you're trying to say."

"Tken em-tjen em netjer?"

He noticed that he could feel the man's words that time, that he got meaning from it less through understanding and more through the emotional currents that ran through them.

And he found he almost understood.

"No, I am not a god." The leader tilted his head a bit, then nodded.

Bastila moved beside him, peering out from her leaning position to find out what was going on. When she emerged, fixing her gaze upon the group, the collected mass gasped.

_It's her eyes_, he realized. _They've never seen eyes like hers before_.

"Sepnetsu! Ini-en hena'resh!"

"What?"

_I think he just welcomed you_, he thought to her.

_Er . . . that's wonderful. What do I say back?_

Revan pointed to himself. "Revan," he said. Then he pointed to his wife. "Bastila."

The crowd was quiet for a moment. The leader then pointed to himself. "Calle," he said.

The baby squirmed in Bastila's arms, and as he wrestled free of his coverings, the people could see what she held. Again, a gasp went through the crowd.

"Sepnetsusa! Reshwet!"

The group started celebrating immediately, and he understood that they were bestowing some sort of honor title upon them. Revan considered their talks closed for a moment and sat down upon the deck.

Bastla leaned upon his shoulder, still exhausted. He took the boy from her arms andshe closed her eyes. He bent his neck to place a kiss upon her forehead, then cast his gaze downward.

He placed one of his hands upon the baby's tiny, cornsilk-covered head. He was smaller than expected, but miraculously perfect despite his early arrival. The boy opened his eyes to his father for the first time, and Revan understood why the natives had been so amazed.

The boy's eyes were the same color blue as his mother's.

A single word ran through his mind, and he felt Bastila's approval before she drifted to sleep.

"It's nice to meet you, Rinshan. We've been expecting you."

----

And, finally. . .a handful of responses:

SnackFiend: Actually, those are your words. :)

Tinuviel: Revan's not good with words. It's all force channeling. Oh, and when are you updating _A Jedi's Secret_?

DragoonKnight: How was the roast?

There are many more of you that have been giving me feedback, and I have to thank you for that. As I said in the beginning, it is not necessary…but it had been appreciated. Thank you.

Up Next: Lake Placid. Wait, that's not right. . .


	15. The Blue Planet

**  
**

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part Three: Silver Lining**_  
_Chapter 1 - The Blue Planet_

On a world with no technology, replacement parts for the ship were impossible. Revan fought with the engines for weeks, but they were fused tightly. There was no way to repair the ship without a starport, and there was decidedly no starport on the world.

The natives called the planet Teravia, and it was a paradise. The planet was filled with lush green trees and plant life, beautiful lakes and waterfalls, green mountains and hidden cliffs. Civilization could be found in the meadows on the valley floor, much like the village that had adopted the wayward Jedi, their child and their strange assault droid.

They lived in the middle of a secluded little meadow, deep in a hillside home that the natives had built for special guests. Revan was right to think that they had been given an honor title, but he was wrong to think it had nothing to do with gods. These people - the Kadjedded, as they called themselves – were a peaceful, intelligent society of scholars and craftsman. The interior of their home was breathtakingly beautiful, from the carved stone support beams to the stained, compact floor. It was a place never meant to be occupied, instead considered a house for the Sacred. They discovered it had to do with their use of the Force, as their Sacred was actually the same.

On the other side of a line of trees was the village of Onderu, where the Kadjedded lived. During the days, they saw about the basic necessities and spent what remained of the day in the Great Circle, discussing philosophy and ideas. When they grew competent enough in the language, Revan and Bastila were invited to join them.

Calle often led the conversations, and on the infrequent occasion when he would not, it was his son Ruwe that led in his stead. They spoke frequently of the Sacred, and the Jedi quickly caught on to a crucial point – these people were all Force-sensitive. They had to be, to some degree. The entire planet felt like the epicenter of the living force, which he believed might explain the intensity of the visions he had while landing the bomber. Nowhere else had either Revan or Bastila felt a planet breathe the way it did here. The difference was that they willingly chose not to wield the Force as a tool, or to use it at all. Instead, they observed it.

At night, the space in the middle of the Great Circle was used for a bonfire. The people would gather and simply be happy amongst each other. Couples could be seen enjoying each others' company or retreating to the privacy of their hut. Friends gathered and shared stories. The children played in the firelight.

HK didn't really know what to make of the strange little meatbags that danced around burning wood, much as he didn't know what to make of the strange little meatbag that kept the occupants of the Sacred House up till all hours.

One of the two humans would find the droid staring at the baby frequently as they came into the room to calm him. Revan decided, one night, to ask about it.

"Answer: I find the terrified screams soothing."

Bastila entered the room at that moment, frowning at HK's response. She took Rinshan from Revan and quickly calmed him.

"We're not so crazy about it."

"Acknowledgement: Of course not, Master. It is rather shrill. There is no doubt as to who gave birth to him."

Bastila's eyes darkened as she whirled around to face Revan. He swallowed his remark.

"Besides being the only one in this house to enjoy listening to a baby cry, you haven't exactly expressed an opinion about him."

HK walked up to Bastila, who had managed to quiet the child. The droid used one digit to poke at the tiny squirming bundle. Little Rinshan immediately started wailing.

"Statement: Your tiny meatbag offspring is loud, Master. And squishy."

They made sure he stayed away from the smaller children for a while after that, but he soon found a place with the older males of the village. The teen-agers sat by the great campfire and listened to HK tell his war stories.

The stars came out early on this planet. Revan and Bastila often found themselves lingering in the meadow after walking home from the Great Circle. On less frequent occasions, they found themselves on the hilltop roof of their home, looking up into the unfamiliar sky and wondering.

"This place is so…" she stopped short, unsure of which word to choose. Revan looked about, as if the word she searched for would be somewhere in front of them. Across the field, he could just see the edge of the Kadjedded Village, full of people who had quickly become good friends. Rinshan squirmed just a little, trying to find a more comfortable position on his father's shoulder.

The more he looked, the less words applied.

"I know," he said at last.

"There is such serenity. Even the Force seems at peace here."

"And it rarely is."

She sighed. "Is this what balance feels like?"

"It's ironic that the force seems so balanced on a planet full of passion."

Bastila turned to face her husband, smiling. "Only to Jedi," she said. "And even then…it doesn't seem so strange to me. I have never been happier."

He kneeled down and bent over her lips, then stole a kiss she wouldn't miss. "Neither have I, my love."

They sat like that for a long time, simply staring out over the valley from the hilltop of their home. Their eternity ended at second sundown, when Rinshan's sleeping form finally became too heavy. Revan pulled his son off his shoulder and cradled him and he moved to stand. The boy, his blonde hair splayed out over his sleeping face, never woke.

"He's so beautiful," Bastila whispered as she moved the stray locks. Revan smiled.

"That's because he looks like you."

She stood with her husband, then reached up to kiss him on the cheek. "Flatterer. C'mon. He should be in bed."

Years passed just like that. Happy years.

And before they knew it, Rinshan was turning five.

-

I know it's short.

But the light shines…It must be the end of the tunnel.

Up next: the light gets brighter. Why does the light sound like a train? 


	16. Stick A Toe In The Water And

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part Three: Silver Lining**_

_Chapter 2 - Stick A Toe In The Water And A Fish Bites Your Foot  
_

After the fires went out at night, HK-47 would begin a long and lengthy surveillance of the meadow settlement and the surrounding outcroppings. There was no real need for it, as the nearest settlement was three days walk away and there were no major predators in the forest, but the droid insisted, anyway. It was to pass time more than anything else.

The patrols also served to help point the hunters in the right direction, at first. He would report to Revan about a suitable group of edible primitive animal forms each morning, and the task of re-stocking their food supply would be completed by mid-morning. Soon after, he stopped reporting back in the morning, choosing instead to return an hour later with a feast draped around his chassis. His blaster rifle's power cell was quickly depleted, so Revan introduced the trigger-happy droid to the more subtle art of the bow and arrow.

After a week-long trial period, the community had a discussion with Revan about the conservation of the food supply and HK-47's rampant decimation of it. By way of a concession, they started drying more of their food out, returned to the practice of small hunts as they needed the food and allowed him to conduct a controlled slaughter once every month.

The patrols became reconnaissance missions for those hunting rampages, but he started reporting back at sunrise again.

"Statement: this unit has performed a thorough examination of the surrounding area and determined that there is currently no impending threat to this community, Master."

Revan shook his head. "Thank you, HK."

He stood with Rinshan in the clearing outside their home, training the boy in the basics of what he needed to know about the Force. His powers were beyond what either of his parents had ever seen before, and had begun to manifest themselves earlier than either expected. Both his parents had been identified by the Jedi at the age of six. Rinshan would have been taken at three.

But his young age at the time had created a unique situation in their Jedi household.

"Hey Dad! You 'member that time when I made Mama fly"

Half a laugh escaped through his mouth before he could stop it, only to have the other half escape through his nose as a loud snort.

Bastila, standing off to the side, crossed her arms and scowled.

"That is not an incident from which you should derive any pride."

Rinshan grinned as he faced his mother. "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't know I was doin' it"

Both of them immediately recalled the events in question, as a jovial and boisterous three-year-old child ran through the house waving his hands in the air, causing random things to go flying from their usual places and crash to the floor. As Bastila had stepped in to grab her mischievous son, she too fell victim to his playtime romp. The calm, strong Jedi Knight was swept off her feet and slammed into the floor before she could mount any kind of defense, bruising both the back of her head and her pride.

Revan had seen the chaos from a safe distance. The sight of his wife being so unceremoniously upheaved gave him amusement for years.

She frowned at his grin. "It was not funny."

He tried to wipe the smile off his face, but her face softened after a few moments. Rinshan walked up to his mother and hugged her around the waist.

Her arms wrapped around the small boy's head. "Don't do it again."

"Yes, Mama."

"Query: must meatbag families always be so grotesquely affectionate"

Rinshan looked up at the shiny red droid and smiled. "It's like how you guard dad, except that we all guard each other all the time and we like each other a lot."

"Admonishment: I like the master! He created me. I would be forced to shut myself down upon his termination, and I do not relish that idea."

"But it's different! It's like...I dunno...like you like hunting! We like each other like you like hunting"

HK stayed silent as his processors considered it. "Realization: Ah. You are referring to love."

"Yeah! You know what love is"

"Answer: Only insofar as it relates to the thrill of tracking down lower life forms and seeing the terror in their cute little eyes as I snuff out their pathetic lives. Or somesuch."

Rinshan just stared at the droid for a minute.

"Yeah...okay."

Bastila had long ago given up on any hope of having the droid permanently dismantled, but it never stopped her from shooting a warning thought to her husband whenever HK started waxing poetic about mass genocide.

"HK, weren't you going to go help Zuwe dig out the new settlement today?"

"Statement: Negative, Master. That occurs tomorrow."

"Then weren't you going to teach the boys shiriwook?"

"Clarification: Those lessons occur every other day. This is not an other day."

Bastila rolled her eyes.

"Go find something to do, HK."

The droid used a disappointed, dejected tone in his response. "Acknowledgment: Yes, Master. As you wish, Master."

The droid walked off, and Revan continued his lesson with Rinshan with Bastila as back-up. When they finished for the morning, they walked as a family to the Great Circle.

Ruwe was there with his family, a wife of five cycles and a three cycle-old daughter. Their wedding was the first event the Jedi had attended as esteemed, honored members of the community. Upon their approach, Ruwe smiled and waved.

They were speaking with another family, one that lived across the meadow from Ruwe. The elder man was the village healer, and a very good one. Gedder had cured Rinshan of many ailments when he was a baby, the alien environment and lack of modern immunity medication exacting a toll on the health of the boy. Gedder easily adapted to his slightly different physiology, and Rinshan was now more immune to the alien world than his parents. The healer had a wife, two unwed sons and one wed daughter, who was seated next to him holding his first-born grandchild.

Their conversations were always pleasant and engaging, and Revan and Bastila always enjoyed them. Rinshan occupied himself by playing with Ruwe's daughter or Gedder's youngest son if he got bored, but the bright boy often sat quietly and listened.

This time, however, Revan never made it to their location.

Revan-sepnetsu, a word I would ask of you.

Calle, the leader of the village, called out before Revan and his family met their friends. Revan smiled, acknowledging the request. "I would give you a word freely, my friend," he replied. These people revered communication. Stolen words were severely frowned upon.

"I will take a hunt. I ask that Revan-sepnetsu would join me."

Revan frowned a bit. The food stores were full from HK's last excursion, and there was enough firewood to restock the Great Bonfire until week's end. HE turned to glance at Bastila, whose thoughts mirrored his. Whatever the purpose of the adventure, it was important to the man.

"I will join you."

"Dad! Dad! Can I go with you?"

The former dark lord looked down at his son and smiled sadly. "Not this time, Son. You stay here with your mother."

Rinshan was disappointed, but nodded anyway. Bastila took his hand and led him to where Ruwe, Gedder and their families sat to share words. Revan turned to Calle ad nodded.

For such an important journey and deliberate request, their journey was remarkably silent. They took no weapons, merely walking sticks, and they traveled familiar paths.

It was quite a while later that they went down a path that Revan had never been on before. It would about for what seemed like forever, but ended at a placid lake. Calle bent to begin inspecting fish traps, but Revan stared in awe at the place they had arrived at.

The water was crystal clear, and smooth as ice. It was a wonder there were any fish in it whatsoever, as it seemed like they would make ripples across the surface. Somehow, they didn't. It was as if they were phantoms under the water.

Across the lake was an overgrown temple. The architecture simultaneously reminded him of some of the ornate structures within the homes of the villagers and a Jedi temple.

"Honored Calle," he said, "What is this place?"

"Long ago, in times we no longer count, we used the Sacred much as you and your Bastila can. Long has it been since we did so."

"I've always sensed that all of you could use the Force, if you chose to. I've also gotten the impression that you decline to by choice. Why is that?"

"We choose to follow."

Revan frowned. "I don't understand."

"It is not ours to wield. Trying to control it will only bring us chaos. In the time we no longer count, we were all like your Jedi. It brought us war and death, so our people became watchers instead of wielders. We read the waves, divine the purpose. But we make no waves, affect no purpose. We do not even dip our toes in the waters of the Sacred."

Revan could not fathom how one could avoid the Force if they felt it. "I don't understand."

"Revan-sepnetsu, take a pebble and throw it into the water."

He did so, and watched as the tiny pebble caused giant ripples to spread throughout the water. When they hit the shore, they reflected back to the point of origin.

"So it is with the Sacred. Place us in the pond and watch the ripples everywhere. Where they hit the land, the land is worn by the motion."

The concept was easy, but there was still one fundamental problem.

"But all living creatures exist within the Force. How can you avoid it?"

"The Kadjedded do not move within it. Like reeds, we bend to it."

"The Jedi strive to do the same. We try to bend to the will of the Force."

"But Revan-sepnetsu, Bastila-sepnetsua and Rinshan-sepnetsusa cannot help but move within the Sacred. Such a part of it you are that a fountain would erupt on your deaths. And your fallen…they are huge boulders, graceless in their fall to the very center of the lake. They set you off-babalce, but the Jedi would do the same if your fallen never fell."

It dawned on the Jedi that Calle was speaking of fallen Jedi. "You can feel the Sith?"

"The Kadjedded watch. We feel all the Force."

"And you do not believe that the Jedi can achieve balance in the Force?"

"Our way balances. Yours tips scales. It is our fear that you would attract the counterbalance."

_He fears we will attract the Sith_, he heard in his mind.

"With respect, Honored Calle, why did you allow us to stay if you feared we would bring imbalance to your civilization?"

"We do not affect the Sacred. It was the Sacred which brought you here. We do not question, and what the Sacred for us intends is not to be known."

Not to be known, that is, until it happened.

They arrived back in the village well after sunset, and Revan found his family in the clearing. Bastila and Rinshan were exchanging Words with each other, and he smiled as the full details of the conversation came into focus.

"Mama, why are the Sith the Sith?"

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the Sith are mean and evil, but some if them used to be Jedi. What made them hate so much?"

He froze as he felt the jolt of pain that shot through her soul. Time had whittled the wound the Dark Side left on her down to a faded scar, but the scar would never go away. He had an identical one. He would know.

Rinshan probably noticed how his question had forced her back into a straight line, and he might have realized that he had asked the wrong question. But Bastila smiled sadly.

"The Dark Side calls them. It begs them to surrender to it, and the moment they do, it invades their minds and bodies. What they do after is the will of the Dark Side, and not by necessity what they intend."

"But they choose to fall."

Revan felt her mental sigh.

"Yes. They choose to take that first step. But they cal also choose to step back at any time."

"Why don't they?"

"It is difficult. The Dark Side sucks you in a hundred meters if you just make that first move. A hundred meters is a long way to move backwards in one big step."

The boy's blonde head tilted to the side as he considered it. "Okay," he said finally, then smiled.

"Go wash up for bed, Rinshan."

The boy leapt up and ran for their hill as Revan came to his wife's side and sat down. She quickly leaned into his side, laying her head on his shoulder, and sighed deeply.

"I think you handled that well."

"One can only hope," she said quietly before lifting her head to look at him. He met her eyes immediately, then leaned over just enough to place a delicate kiss on her rose-red lips.

They sat there for a long time, enjoying each other's company in the night air.

But the question had to be asked.

"Do you think Calle is right? Will we attract destruction and death?"

"I don't know. I hope not." Revan rubbed the bridge of his nose. "But he was right about one thing."

She nodded knowingly. "The Force brought us here."

Now all that remained was waiting for it to reveal why. And, perhaps, preparing to survive that hidden purpose.

-

Wow. That was the hardest easy chapter I've ever written! Took days to plan – took an hour to pound out on a keyboard. Go figure.

G: The plot and outcome of this story was completely mapped before I ever sat down to write it. The difficulty in writing it (and the reason for the time delays) has been details. It's never mattered to me how they get from point A to point B, but stories have a tendency of making sure you include all that. So the easy answer is no, as far as I'm concerned. But as far as the story…if Revan had responded to the situation any other way, Bastila wouldn't have survived. Neither would HK. But you shouldn't think that _all _those visions revolved around her death…

SnackFiend: Yes you do find out who those people are…somewhere on another world in February! I'll give you a hint: do NOT forget to go into that cave.

Tinuviel:poke: update?

As always, thank you everyone for the lovely commentary. I'm taking a week-long break. I have plans to go outrun avalanches for a while, and the computer is going in for service while I'm gone. Stupid thing. No more FileProxy errors!


	17. In A Heart Of Darkness

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part Three: Silver Lining**_

_Chapter 3 - In A Heart Of Darkness  
_

The boy was tall and agile, skilled and strong. The Force flowed through him like half of him was its direct descendant. He was young, his ocean-blue eyes and flaxen hair making him seem even younger than his nine cycles.

In a snow-sprinkled clearing, surrounded by several hundred white-capped and ancient trees, he stood ready for combat, his single-bladed yellow lightsaber ignited and ready.

With perfect control and serenity, he parried everything thrown at him. With perfect peace and harmony, he deflected all force-motivated affronts. And when his opponent finally stopped, he stood there silently, awaiting his next instructions.

"You would be a good Jedi." The boy smiled and the flush in his face made his teeth stand out against it. It was so brilliant that it was east to see that being like his parents was all he wanted in the world. It lasted but for a second, but it was enough.

"Do you think we will ever leave this place, Father?"

"Perhaps one day, my son," came his father's answer, "when we have fulfilled our destiny here."

The boy nodded, then shifted in his heavy coat. "Father?"

"Yes, Son?"

The boy's excitement switched quickly to curiosity. "Can you tell me about Mom?"

Revan felt a sudden cold shiver of recognition shoot up his spine. The reason didn't occur to him, so he dismissed it as a reaction to the weather. "What would you like to know?"

There was a small bond between the two, one that had no hope of comparing to the one he shared with Bastila. It existed between mother and son, as well. Through it, he could feel the well of insatiable curiosity bubble up with a thousand questions.

"When did you meet Mom?"

The former Dark Lord smiled. "She saved my life. I know we met before that, but I have trouble remembering things before then."

"You needed to be saved? I don't believe that."

He ruffled Rinshan's hair as they headed toward the house. "You should believe it, Son. Sometimes, even dads need saving."

"I thought you would be the one saving Mom!"

Bastila was aware of their conversation through the link. He felt her offended snort.

"I don't think she'd appreciate that!"

Revan's smiling son stilled suddenly, eyes fixed over the treetops and into the grey sky. A small, foreboding feeling shot through him as he looked up to face what his son was staring at.

The sight was much like a small sun going nova as it streaked through the upper stratosphere of the planet they lived on, but Revan knew better. It was a sight he'd seen enough of in dreams, in his visions of the battles he had once been part of. It was what he imagined the bomber looked like seven years ago as it spiraled uncontrollably towards their new home.

All of this might have been exciting if not for the cold sweat that had developed along his spine.

The streak entered the far depths of the forest and impacted with a boom. Bastila, having felt a disturbance, arrived where the rest of her family was gathered in time to hear it. Moments after, Ruwe came running into their secluded meadow.

The son of the Chieftain was considerably taller and larger than his father, and made up in mental and physical strength what he lacked of his father's commanding grace. He was slightly winded, but only just, having run full-tilt across a meadow coated in a few inches of fresh powder. For a moment, his face revealed concern, but he covered it quickly as he approached the Jedi.

"My father humbly requests that the Sepnetsu join him fireside."

Revan glanced at Bastila before answering Ruwe. "We will leave immediately."

They traveled as quickly as Rinshan's legs would allow, but it afforded the two Jedi enough time to contemplate certain issues. Without thinking about it, Bastila had brought her single-bladed lightsaber with her, the original double-edged blade having recently been split to provide their son with a practice blade. Their presence in all of this would protect the village of people they had come to love, but there was still a nettling sensation at the back of Revan's mind, one that remembered his conversation with Calle a few years before.

They arrived at the Great Campfire, where everyone in the village had already gathered. Calle stood to greet them, and the Jedi noticed a grim line set in his face. They were sure it was mirrored in their own expressions.

"You have felt it?" the village elder questioned. "They come like vipers in a nest of hatchlings, disrupting by their very presence and poised to destroy everything. The Fallen have found this place."

Rinshan, the one most out of the loop, looked up to his parents for answers. He received his father's hand on his shoulder and his mother's protective arm around his head.

"We must stop them, Honored Calle," Bastila said. "Revan and I will depart immediately. We only ask that you watch over our son until we return."

"But Mom, I want to go with you!"

Revan kneeled to his son's level and nearly caved in when he saw how disappointed the boy was. "Rinshan, you are still too young to go with us. The people we will go in search of are powerful, and you would be in danger."

"I'm not afraid of Sith!"

His parents backed up in surprise. Their son was impressively intelligent. Or he was simply growing up.

"But we would be afraid for you, Rinshan."

He didn't seem to have anything to say to his mother's words. His head lowered, and he muttered his understanding.

Ruwe's wife reached out for Rinshan, and he dejectedly walked to her side. The Jedi looked to one another, then turned back to Calle.

"Do you have any idea where the ship landed?"

He nodded. "In the trailless regions past the Water Temple. It will take almost all sunlight to reach their place."

"Point us in the right direction and we shall go."

"No."

For a moment, Revan thought he may have asked too much of these pacifist people by asking for directions, but Calle rose and descended from his seat. "I shall take you there."

Gasps of surprise erupted from all around the circle, but the elder leader silenced them all with a gesture of his hands. "If they are lost in the forest, the Fallen will come for us. When they find us, they will find Rinshan-sepnetsusa. They will destroy us all. The Sepnetsu must be led to their fallen kindred quickly if we have any hope of survival."

The crowd looked unconvinced, but Calle persisted, anyway. "We will go now," he said to the Jedi. They nodded, turning only briefly back to Rinshan."

"We'll be back, Son. Be good."

"Go with Ruwe's family. They'll take care of you."

He nodded. "Okay."

Cradling his mother's lightsaber, he walked away without another word.

They started out immediately, and had not reached the tree line when HK came running up to Revan.

"Statement: Master, the flaming object that crashed into this planet not long ago matched programmed parameters for a Sith vessel. This unit stands happily ready to comply with any assassination orders you might be willing to give."

Revan's next action was something he thought about heavily for about ten seconds before realizing that it was necessary.

"No."

"Disbelief: What?"

"You no longer belong to me."

"Exclamation: WHAT! Master, you are my master! I cannot simply cease belonging to you!"

"You can, HK. You are being given to someone else."

"Disappointment: Have I failed you, Master? If I have, then I will gladly rip whatever inferior circuits caused the malfunction out of my chassis with my bare digits!"

"HK, it's nothing like that."

The droid was silent for a moment. "Query: Then what is it like, Master?"

"I am giving you to Rinshan."

"Wary Query: Master, your offspring does not possess the same irreverent sense of humor that you do. I am afraid I will not enjoy this arrangement."

"HK, the Sith are on this planet. I do not care for my own life, but I need you to protect my son. Both Bastila and I will feel better knowing you protect him at all times."

He ignored the slight irritation she felt at having been included in the conversation, but he knew she agreed with the statement.

"Observation: This is more of a mission than a transfer of ownership, Master. If your offspring becomes my master, Master, then your commands might be superceded by him at one point."

"One day, perhaps. This is your final standing order. You might find yourself doing something else at his command one day, but this order stands as long as I live. Got it?"

Again, the droid fell silent. After a long pause, he finally ceded. "Reluctant Acknowledgement: Yes, Master."

Revan felt slightly guilty about denying the droid a chance at bloodshed, but immediately felt better when he actually analyzed that thought. HK walked back toward the village, finding Rinshan standing at its edge. The Jedi watched as the droid parked itself next to their son, who stared out at them dejectedly. Without another word, they turned back and restarted their journey.

It was that last glance at their son that kept his parents' minds occupied for much of their trip. Even Bastila, who should have been enjoying the scenery on some level, seemed far away.

"Do not dwell, Sepnetsu. You will succeed."

Revan's thoughts hopped tracks when Calle uttered the only words since leaving the clearing. "Honored Calle, why have you offered to guide us?"

"As I said, the village is in danger."

Bastila followed Revan's line of thought. "But from what we understand of your people, you would allow the danger as part of the will of the Force. This is a very direct action."

Calle shrugged. "I have made a decision."

It was all he would say.

They continued on the path to the temple, pausing just long enough to nourish themselves on the miraculously ice-free water in front of it. Bastila remarked on its beauty, but Calle related his cautionary tale to her. There was still something about it, some mysterious purpose they could not place, and it seemed all the more daunting as they gazed at the ruins under a blanket of snow. But the feeling passed soon, and they moved on.

Just before dusk, they reached the crash site. The Sith had not been fortunate enough to land in a clearing; rather, the ship had about twenty feet to fall before it actually impacted the planet. Revan was simultaneously relieved by the fact that it was a modified long-range transport vessel and horrified by the idea that there were likely at least two Sith on the planet. The passengers had departed from the wreckage, and a quick examination yielded no useful equipment. He made a note to come back later and check for salvageable ship parts.

"They may already be headed toward the village," Calle said.

"Maybe, but that's assuming they came here on a mission and with an exact plan. The fact that they crash-landed tells me that plan went wrong. Maybe they're out looking for supplies."

"Can you not feel them, Sepnetsu?"

The Jedi glanced at one another. "We've been passively blocking the Force since we first felt their presence. They can find us as easily as we would find them."

"Wise, indeed," Calle replied.

"Is there any shelter nearby? Or maybe just a convenient campground?"

The elder made a gesture to reflect his lack negative answer, and Revan and Bastila were quickly running out of options.

"We need to lure them out."

"Is there any chance that they'll return here?"

Revan cast a glance upward.

"Nevermind."

With that, Bastila closed her eyes and opened herself to the Force again. There was a long silence amongst the group, one that was finally broken when Revan saw his wife gasp, then open her eyes.

He felt the darkness through her. He felt it as it touched her mind. He felt the seductive familiarity of raw power and the involuntary shiver of revulsion it caused in her. He felt the violent stirring in his own gut, caused by the same thing.

He felt the wave of regret crash though his veins at having let her open up first.

"They're not far. They felt Rinshan, but I can't feel him right now. I think he's blocking them…and I think they're lost."

"Which way?"

She pointed to a small path. If they called the direction from which they came south, then this was east.

They fell into line, Revan in the lead, Calle in the middle and Bastila bringing up the rear. They walked like this along the narrow path, through thick evergreen underbrush and serpentine vines. The canopy of foliage high above was thick, but spotty, allowing just enough of the thin winter light to see where they were going and what was around them, but that light would quickly fade. They had to find a place to stop soon.

It was then that Revan happened to catch a glimpse of what lay beneath the dead moss and the snow. He bent over and brushed some of it away.

"A stone road. This used to be a road." A thought occurred to him. "Honored Calle, how large is the Temple?"

"My people do not venture near to it, but it was once a great and hallowed place of learning. It must be vast."

Bastila, who had turned around to watch their trail, looked over her shoulder toward her husband. "You believe that is where they are."

Revan stood once again. "It's where I'd be right now."

They continued on, the road becoming slightly wider and more visible as the sky darkened and the trees became more dense.

Just when there was no more light, they found themselves in a walled clearing with a lit campfire in the center. All around them were ruined garden retaining walls in intricate shapes, leading to two buildings on opposite ends of the vast compound. The jungle plants had encroached upon the outer walls, and snow covered the petrified courtyard shrubbery.

Amidst the cold, chaotic remains of the distant past stood three black-clad Sith, each with ignited dual lightsabers.

"Revan and Bastila. We've searched for you for a long time."

The events on Dantooine so long ago came rushing back. "Have you?"

"Yes." The one in the middle, a tall, masked, broad-shouldered man that reminded Revan of Malak in a way, spoke first. "We were sent to find you by our master. The remains of the _Guilty Spark_ were found near the Galactic Core five years ago. We assumed you might have had a similar hyperspace incident."

"It has taken us years to calculate your skewed trajectory, and here we are at long last." The words came from the one to the right, but the Sith on the sides were so similar in dress, stature and movement they may as well be twins.

"And who is this? Your pet native?" the other said. "Can he understand a word we're saying?"

Calle chose to hold his tongue, but Revan knew better than to think he wasn't following the conversation. They had once communicated through the Force. The swells of negative emotions that the Sith in front of them gave off were so blatant that one did not need ears to know what they were saying.

"You'll leave him out of this," Bastila said. "He is not Jedi, and he is not Republic. This fight is not about him."

"But you misunderstand, dear Bastila," she flinched and shivered at the phrasing, at the way it slid off the center Sith's tongue with just an edge of friction. A rush of old memories threatened to break free of her control, but she swallowed the acid flavor down again. "We are not looking for a fight. We are looking for the true leaders of the Sith!"

Calle looked to Revan, and he could feel the man's questioning glare on the back of his neck. "You've come looking in the wrong place, then," Revan said.

A rush of wind sent the white powder on the ground flying, swirling around the small group. The frozen water sizzled and evaporated against the gleaming red lightsabers.

"Have we?"

When the wind died, the snow still fell softly. They could all feel the temperature quickly dropping.

"Then what was that presence I felt before? It was incredible. It held so much power that even I could never hope to defeat it. I had thought it was you, Bastila."

A moment passed, then another. The twins turned to face each other slowly, and moments later, their companion began to laugh.

"But I see now that it couldn't be. It's not you either, Revan. Though both of you are quite powerful."

He stepped forward, leaving his twin thugs behind. "I wonder what made you come out here in search of us so readily. If you knew what we were, would it not have been safer to simply stay in the village and wait for us to come? Would you not have had the advantage there? It was so noble of you to come for us to protect a village, but really…what threat would we pose to a simple village if there were no force wielders there? No. You've come here because there is something else in that village. Something else that you would die to protect."

Bastila gripped her lightsaber tightly, and Revan's thumb went for the actuator.

"You've been here seven years, alone but for the natives, cut off from what little remains of the Jedi Council. How foolish I was to believe that it was your power I felt. Tell me, Lord Revan, Lady Bastila. Did you have a daughter, as beautiful and deadly as her mother? Or did you have a son, a true heir to the Sith Empire?"

He felt Calle's realization as it flickered through his mind. Fear, real fear flashed through him and he involuntarily stepped back.

"It doesn't matter. We will find the child. And when we do, we will introduce it to its true legacy!"

Bastila's thumb flew over the actuator, and a bright, gleaming yellow beam emerged. Revan's deep blue saber ignited a moment later, just as his wife took a step forward to meet the blades of her Sith adversary.

"Over my dead body," she growled.

"That is acceptable," came his smooth reply.

Revan met the twins in action before they could reach their companion. He ducked and darted as four lightsabers came toward him, weaved and flipped as they slashed and swung st his body. These Sith were good, but not that good. Their advantage was in their choreographed movements, and not in their skill with blades. They were indeed twins, and the one that Bastila was dealing with was their master.

She was holding out against the stronger opponent, but his size and strength made the concept of holding out turn into an acrobatic display as she studiously avoided his flying blades. In the back of her mind, the past pounded against her mental barriers.

"You are strong," the master said. "But not strong enough. I will break you."

She felt repulsed and revolted. The acid memories she had fought before came up again in the form of bile, and distracted her just enough to allow a swift kick to the stomach through her defenses. She landed painfully on the remnants of one of the stone planters, and the bile finally escaped from her body.

"Bastila!" As Revan looked over to see her fall, his defenses slipped, as well. One of the four whirling blades grazed his left arm. Backing off from the fight, he rushed to her side.

_Are you all right?_

_He reminds me of him, Revan. He reminds me so much of him._

_You're stronger than the memories. You're stronger than what he did to you._

The three Sith closed on them slowly, the master chuckling as he moved closer.

_I don't want to remember, Revan._

_Then don't. Think of me. Think of Rinshan. Think of anything else._

The Jedi raised their two blades as the six crimson lights closed on them again, poised to strike.

Then, suddenly, one of the twins staggered and turned.

Revan took advantage of it, closing the distance to attack the distracted Sith. Up close and without the immediate aid of his brother, the black-clad man lasted scant seconds against the former Dark Lord. Fueled with rage, the remaining twin tried to blast Revan with Force Lightning, but it was deflected easily. Sabers clashed for a few moments, but the fight was all but over. Some part of Revan's brain wondered why they ever gave the poor boy a second saber at all.

As Revan attacked the twins, Bastila lunged at their master once more. Her offensive move threw him, and it showed just long enough for her to slice through his left-handed saber. The battle even once again, they used strength and skill alternately to try to end the fight.

"How does it feel, Bastila? How does it feel to have the darkness haunt you for your betrayals?"

Their blades were locked. She put all of her strength and will into holding the position. She could not tell what he was doing.

"What do you mean?"

"The darkness calls to you. The darkness wants you back. It can give you everything you ever wanted. All you have to do is welcome it again."

She pushed upward, then extended her arm and released a Force Wave. As she did, Revan joined her once more.

"I have everything I ever wanted right now. I do not need the dark side. I never needed the dark side."

The Sith master stood once again, and Revan noticed that his mask was cracked. So did he, and the mask was discarded. He gave them an evil, hate-filled smirk.

Standing before them was a ghost. Or, at least, he looked like a ghost. His resemblance to Malak was more than passing – it was so close that he might have been his brother.

But he was not Malak.

"My master would have loved to be here now. You are nothing like what he hoped you would be, and I see now that you are both too weak to embrace your true destinies. It's a shame, but one that does not matter. I will do what my master never could, and your failure will be complete. If I cannot turn you back to the dark side, then I will turn your son."

Revan took the first step this time, swinging high towards the acolyte's head and bellowing his defiance. Bastila stepped forward in concert with his actions and swiped at his midsection. Working together, using their fortified bond in a battle for the first time, they were a juggernaut force against their adversary. The snow swirled and the blades whirled and there was nothing but thought, movement and perfect chorus, and the Sith was helpless against it. After a minute's eternity, his saber fell out of his hands and he slumped to his knees.

"Perhaps…I might have been mistaken."

His body fell backwards into the snow.

Revan and Bastila stood in silence, looking about them. The courtyard was silent once again, filled with the warm light of a fire and the haze of a medium snowfall. The bodies of the twins lie face-down, side by side, their arms spread at their sides and grasping their lightsabers. Except that one of them – the one Revan had defeated first – held only one.

He turned round to where the Sith had been facing when he lunged, toward the breached wall they had come from, and he saw the ignited lightsaber on the ground halfway between.

And in the distance, next to the wall, they saw Calle lying still on the ground.

They realized what had happened when they arrived next to his body. The Sith were closing on the Jedi, and Calle had provided the distraction that Revan had taken advantage of. The enraged Sith whirled, tossed his lightsaber and forced it straight through Calle's heart, then tried to summon it back before Revan finished him off. Tears welled in Bastila's eyes, and he held her as the full impact of everything that had happened struck them both.

In the morning, through light snowfall, they departed the temple and circled back the way they came. Taking a sheet of metal from the crash site, the Jedi made a sled for their friend's body and began walking home.

They tried not to think of the past. Bastila had worked so hard to put Malak behind her, only to have his ghost start haunting her once again. Revan remembered little more than the final battle, but it was enough to leave a scar. Both regretted what they did, for their own reasons. More than anything, both regretted that they had ever led the Sith to this haven. They feared that the taint they had brought would doom their friends, the people who had gladly taken them in despite the conflict with their native beliefs that the Jedi represented. And now, in return for caring for their son, they would bring the village the dead body of their great leader.

There was a ritual that they called the Han'lydded which was performed upon the body. Each member of the community placed a blessing upon the corpse, and when all had gone, they placed Calle's remains high atop an altar of logs in the middle of the Great Circle. They pyre they lit would burn for days, a symbol of the spirit the dead man had possessed.

Revan found himself standing beside Ruwe on the last day of the ceremony. His guilt got the better of him.

"I'm so sorry. I should have been more mindful. I should have stopped this before it happened."

Ruwe said nothing for a long time, staring at the smoldering rubble of his father's remains. At length, he turned to face Revan and his family, and as he did he placed a hand upon Revan's shoulder.

"There is no apology, Revan-sepnetsu. My honored father made a choice. Do not dishonor it by suggesting you should have stopped it."

"But we never saw the attack that claimed him!"

Ruwe shook his head, long dreadlocks flowing about his shoulders as he did. "You don't understand," he said. "The choice was made before he ever left the village. My honored father knew that leading you to the Fallen would claim his life."

The knowledge shook him. Calle had told them of that choice, but they never thought about what it meant.

"We found the Sith ship. With a few modifications, I think I can repair mine soon. I want to thank you for your hospitality, Ruwe. And choice or no, I want you to know that I regret the way this has all turned out. I never wanted to place you or your people in danger, my friend."

Ruwe shrugged, a gesture barely seen through the layers he wore. A blizzard was nearing, and even as close to the heat of the pyre as they were, the cold was biting. "It was the will of the Sacred. Remember that. We have treasured the time we have spent with you and will be sad to see you go, but we will understand why you must leave."

They stood silently as they watched the embers fade. Bastila led Rinshan back home after a while, but Revan stayed behind. When the last coal was flickering, Ruwe turned to him.

"Who is it that seeks you and your family?"

"He was once my best friend, and…I think he might have been Bastila's friend, too. I can't remember. We thought he was dead, but…I guess we were wrong about that."

"Why does he seek you?"

"He believes we can lead the Sith to glory again. He believes we can be turned to the dark side."

"Why would he think that?"

Revan closed his eyes. "Because once, long ago, I was his master. Bastila was his apprentice. Long ago, we were both Sith Lords."

The man did not shrink away, as Revan thought he might. Instead, he stood there calmly regarding him.

"I can restore your memory, Revan-sepnetsu. If you are ready to remember."

He extended his hand, and Revan looked down upon it. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he looked into Ruwe's dark eyes.

"Alright," he said. "Do it."

-

A few notes: I went on vacation for a week only to find it would take another week to get my computer back. When I did, I had to find all my software and product keys – most notably, the disks and key for Office – before I could continue. And then, once I had everything working again, I was faced with the toughest writer's block of this story thus far. This chapter has taken two weeks to write.

In the meantime, I've been working on something. It'll be ready for the end of the next chapter, which means it'll all fall together as part of a grand finale. If the little twist I just threw in hasn't gotten your attention, just wait. I'm nowhere near done with the twisting.

The next chapter will have a few KOTOR II spoilers, but I think I'll manage to confine them to the optional quests for the most part. Everything else will be subject to interpretation, since there's a lot about that game I still haven't figured out.

Up Next: the past


	18. Snow Blindness

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part Three: Silver Lining**_

_Chapter 4 - Snow Blindness  
_

He walked slowly into his bedroom, shed his cloak and stood at the foot of the bed. His wife, his beautiful wife was curled up beneath the sheets, one slender arm reaching out from beneath them toward his empty place at her side.

Memories swarmed beneath the surface of his immediate thoughts, casting a dark shadow over the simple things he once enjoyed. He was plagued by two thoughts: the first being that he was weak for falling in love with the woman before him. The second, to his horror, was a list of dark Force powers that a Sith Lord should be teaching his son.

Revan's memories were all there, like the block in his memory had been nothing more than sugar, and someone had poured a flood of steaming water over it. He was himself, but he was suddenly more himself than he could ever recall being before, and that was an affliction that came with an army of bad memories and inappropriate thoughts.

Bastila made small, mewling noises in her sleep, drawing him out of his darkness. He watched as the mewling became talking and, finally, thrashing. He did nothing, simply stood there and watched until she woke herself with a loud shout.

As the dark room came into focus, her face fell into confused lines. "Revan?" For a reason she couldn't identify, she felt momentary alarm. Revan felt the cause dawn on her.

"Why can't I feel you?"

He felt a very small twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry. I'm doing it on purpose."

"But why?"

She climbed over to the foot of the bed and sat before him. He looked down at her as she did this and made his face an impassive, emotionless mask. She could no more read him now than she could if he was wearing his full Sith armor.

"I remember."

Though it was dark, he could see Bastila's eyes widen. Her face probably went pale, as well.

"How much?"

"Everything."

She cast her gaze downward. "I see. And…" There was a flutter in her emotions, one that showed in the cringe she made. "What does this mean for us?"

"I'm…torn right now. Most of me wants to wrap you in my arms and drift into sleep, and the other part wants to rip your throat out."

A sharp intake of breath was the answer he received.

"We'll be fine. I'll be fine. For some reason, I didn't expect emotions with my memories. I expected to be apathetic, an evil automaton of pure hate." He shook his head. "It was foolish. I'll have to adjust."

She nodded her understanding, and then turned her head. The faint glow of a hallway lamp shone against her face, and he could tell for the first time just how pale she'd become in the last few days.

"Bastila, why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged. "It was past. I didn't want you blaming yourself for one more thing you couldn't recall."

"I recall it now, Bastila." He didn't want to sound so cold as he spoke to her, but he couldn't keep the indignant edge out of his voice. "I want you to tell me what happened to you. I want to know, once and for all, what suffering I brought upon you."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

His jaw locked together in unfamiliar agitation, forcing him to speak through clenched teeth and calming breaths. "Don't argue with me right now, Bastila." It came out like a warning.

He instantly regretted the tone, but was grateful she took the hint. "It wasn't your fault, Revan. It…it was mine for going to Korriban in the first place, to that damnable meeting. It was my foolish pride and haughty idealism that made renegade gatherings sound like a good idea. The masters might have overreacted a bit, and I might have lost a few years of status, but it was a result of my own actions, and not yours."

"I was the one that picked you. I was the one that told Malak how to manipulate you into meeting with him."

A sardonic grin crossed her face. "He used it. Oh, did he use it. He tried everything to get me to join you. He crafted his words carefully, being sure to over-inflate all our egos and prey on each of our individual faults. How did you know so much about me, or any of us? We didn't know each other very well. How did he know which buttons to push?"

He grunted. "For all our vaunted control, Jedi have loose lips when it comes to phenomenal students. The masters talk. Sometimes, they talk about the same thing a few times over. They spoke about you a lot. You and the Exile."

"Of course…" She shook her head. A thought occurred to her, and a half smile appeared on her face. "But it didn't matter what I did then. It takes a single noble act to fall, doesn't it? You meant to end a bloody war, and became the monster you meant to stop. And I…"

Revan frowned. It occurred to him in that moment that she had never actually told him what Malak had done to change her mind. Somehow, he had always assumed it was mindless torture that reached her breaking point, but now…

"My love…what did he do to you?"

The sound that escaped her was bitter, a half laugh meant to cover a deeper emotion. It did not fool him.

"You taught your apprentice well, Revan. All the subtle plotting and gentle manipulation you were skilled at rubbed off on him. He learned what you meant him to. He simply preferred to be brutal."

Ice water filled his veins as she said those words. In an instant, his barriers slipped, and he felt her in his mind once again. Somehow, that's all it took.

_The slab was cold beneath her bare back, retaining its ice-like properties even over the indeterminate amount of time it had been joined to her flesh. Long ago, a lifetime ago, Malak had decided she did not need clothes during her torture, particularly not clothes that reminded her of a life she was no longer meant to live. Maybe he intended to humiliate her. She refused to give in so easily._

_Days had slipped together. Weeks, perhaps. Time was a smooth stream of endless torture, and she no longer cared to know how long she had been tied to the rock that had become her universe._

_Sith Acolytes did their best to impress their master. They were inventive with their methods, persistent with their pain. The Force was hard to find in this place of dark power, but it was there nonetheless. She clung to the thread she could find, her only hope for continued sanity._

_It was her firm belief that Malak intended for her sanity to crack. He had tried reasoning with her about the Council, an ill-fated attempt at convincing her they were wrong. He tried to force her into admitting a multitude of sins over bouts of lightning attacks, to no avail. In the back of her mind was Revan. She could not betray him by falling. She had the chance years ago to join the dark side, and she had refused it. She would not turn to it now._

_And though he was a riveting figure in himself, she was sure that Malak lacked Revan's cunning._

_She would be wrong._

"_Ah, Bastila. Still alive?"_

_She said nothing and did nothing. She chose to ignore his presence, fully expecting some form of torture for her disrespect. She would be dead to it – her body held enough scars that she was almost sure her nervous system would never recover._

_But the shock never came. At length, she opened her eyes._

"_You are strong, Child. Stronger than I would have thought possible given your alignment with the Jedi Council. You deserve the power I offer you as my apprentice."_

"_It's really a shame, then, that I won't accept it." Sarcasm was not a weapon in her arsenal. At least, not until Revan introduced her to it._

_And Malak, knowing her well enough, was not about to miss it._

"_Why Bastila, I am surprised how easily you've allowed your control to slip. Have you spent so much time with him?"_

"_Not enough, actually. I can't agitate you nearly as much as Revan did." There it was again. What had spurred this sudden change? She could feel him distantly, just enough to know he was still alive, but there was no reason for—_

_Then it hit her. Or, rather, it lightly slapped against the rear surface of her mind as it settled itself into place casually, as if it was meant to be there all along._

'_What, Babe, you didn't think there would be some sort of price for rifling through my mind?'_

"_Oh, my god."_

_She said it out loud. Malak noticed it, but said nothing. He didn't need to, since the voice in her head did all the talking._

'_You did a great job keeping me locked up for so long. Must have been that icy personality of yours.' She was offended, and snorted derisively._

'"_Don't worry, Babe. I'll keep it quiet. Even if it is fun to mess with your head.'_

"_What do you want?" she growled._

'_The power I once wielded. The respect I once commanded. I want my life back. The life you stole from me.'_

"_I did no such thing! I saved your life!"_

_The voice chuckled. 'Maybe. I am no longer the Dark Lord, and another personality inhabits my body. From my point of view, you took my life away.'_

_Malak was saying something, but she couldn't hear him. Her thoughts dominated every part of her brain, and sensory input was secondary to processing all that information._

'_But it worked out well for you, didn't it? Whatever's left of me in that shell you call Revan was apparently enough to expose you to the darker side of the Force.'_

_She growled. "What are you talking about!"_

_Malak looked briefly scandalized, but he made no moves against her. The voice in her head chuckled._

'_You don't think I know what you did, and what else you wanted to do? Such feelings, Bastila! And for a Sith!'_

"_Revan is not Sith. Not anymore."_

'_It's amazing how you can distinguish the new man from his forgotten past so easily. Even the Jedi call that naïve.'_

_Some small part of her thought the voice may be right._

'_I guess it's possible that he – or is it I? –loves you. You're about the right type. Young, pretty…not terribly bright…'_

_The scoff died before it ever fully formed._

'…_and repressed enough to be wild fun in bed. Oh, you would be interesting. Never a dull moment with passion like yours. You probably would have kept me interested for a very long time. What a thought.'_

"_There is no passion," she responded weakly._

'_Please,' he responded, 'You've already contradicted that. But here's my idea. You want me out of your head?'_

"_Yes."_

'_Then put me back where I belong. Think about it. If he really loves you that much, my presence isn't going to change that. And the Jedi would never allow you two to stay together.'_

"_But our bond-"_

'_Would be forcibly severed by the High Council itself. They would rather see you mad or dead than in joined with the former dark lord.'_

_The thought settled over her like a plastic bag. The more she hyperventilated the less air she got._

'_Turn him back, Bastila. Only you can do this. And once that's done, we can destroy Malak and rule the Sith!'_

_She snorted. "You can't be serious. Sith don't understand love."_

'_Neither do Jedi.'_

_She lay quiet for a long time, oblivious to everything but the voice in her head and the blackness behind her closed eyes. A shiver descended her spine at the moment a warmth rose from her toes._

_The harshness that the voice had held before was gone. All that remained was the low, seductive rumble of Revan's true voice._

'_It's the only way the two of you can be together. Bring him back over, take over the Sith. Spend the rest of your days as his lover at his side.'_

_She opened her eyes again, and Malak was hovering over her._

"_Are you ready to listen now, my apprentice?"_

"_I am not your apprentice," she replied._

"_You should think seriously upon that before you reply." His expression, calculatedly cold, turned menacing as he produced a small device. A detonator._

"_Join me, or I will destroy your friends."_

_She shook her head. Weak and tired though she was, she struggled against her restraints. "You're bluffing. You would not have hesitated to destroy them if you could."_

"_Would I? Perhaps I had reason for keeping them alive a bit longer. Nevertheless, this detonator controls a charge placed upon the Ebon Hawk's hyperdrive. The damage will be severe...unless you join me."_

_Her mouth curled into a snarl. "You lie."_

_He stared at her for a long moment. "So be it."_

_Doubt crept into her mind, doubt spurred on by the presence that would not go away. Malak lifted his arm and thumb, intent upon bringing the finger down upon the trigger button. _

_The doubt turned into a single, terrifying question: 'What if you're wrong?'_

"_Wait."_

_The Dark Lord of the Sith stopped._

'_We can stop Malak.'_

"_Leave him alone."_

_The man's yellow eyes drilled into her soul. "Only if you take what I offer you."_

'_We can be together.'_

"_Yes. Anything. Just leave him alone."_

_His laugh was hardly audible at first, but grew in strength with each breath he took. She became more convinced of her mistake with each passing second._

"I realized later that there was no voice, that no fractured remnant of your consciousness turned me. The darkness within me was all my own. Malak had projected an illusion on two fronts, and in my weakness I didn't see through it."

"He convinced you to try to convert me and challenge him on purpose? Why would he do that?"

She sighed. "I can really only speculate, but I don't imagine he saw you as a true threat. It was a gamble to send me after you, and I'm not sure he thought you would turn when I offered you the chance. He correctly expected me to be hurt and angry, and expected my spite to be enough to defeat you."

Revan nodded. "But it wasn't."

"Of course not. He miscalculated the depth of my feelings for you. And…he may not have understood some other factors. I didn't."

He nodded as he picked up on her train of thought. "Your Battle Meditation."

She turned to look at him, even though he would not look at her. Her face settled into suspicious, then certain lines as she read into those three simple words. "You knew."

"I had some idea. Every Jedi has a breaking point. Channeling all that negative energy would eventually bring you to yours. I wasn't confident that you would join us, but I knew that if you ever had cause to use your Battle Meditation in combat, you would eventually come over to our way of thinking."

A shiver ran through her. "Malak was fond of that phrase. He used it on Korriban, and again on the Star Forge."

He winced. "Sorry. That was my fault."

Silence stretched itself out between them, making itself comfortable in the thick tension. Bastila lost herself in the memories of the past, in the memories of the things she had spent so long forgetting. Somewhere in the peace of this planet, she had succeeded in exorcising her demons. Now that the peace had been brutally shattered by the past itself, the horrors it had surrounded and confined enjoyed their newfound freedom.

"I want to know something."

Revan looked sideways at her. "Anything."

"Why did you do it?"

His teeth clamped together briefly, and the muscles in his jaw tensed. "I found something out there during the war. The council warned me about a greater darkness, and they thought I proved them right when I fell. The truth is, I discovered what they really felt, and it was darker than even they could imagine, and nothing I was doing would cause it or prevent it. I went after the Star Forge because I knew how defenseless we would be when it struck. I fell to the Sith because I knew the Republic was too weak to withstand it."

He could feel Bastila struggling to control the overwhelming darkness invading her senses. Revan closed his eyes and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Bastila. I was hoping I could protect you from it."

She began to shiver next to him. "Is this how you felt when you first discovered it?"

"Yes."

Her arms were wrapped around herself in a futile attempt to keep the chill, empty evil away, but she still shook. The better part of Revan broke through, and he wrapped her in his arms.

"Even now, it still looms ever closer. We had no idea. They still may not know."

"We'll present this to the council when we find our way home."

They leaned back onto the bed. Revan still held her, and she surrendered herself to the strength of his arms.

He just tried to quiet the demons in his head long enough to get some rest, and as much as Bastila's ever-present affection had always calmed him, not even that was enough.

That in itself added another huge weight to his list of persistent pressures.

-

The light shines upon this story. The end of the tunnel approaches. Does anyone know what that loud rumbling is? Kinda sounds like a train.

While you're figuring that out, go look at this story on my website. The link is in my profile. It's a much more enjoyable way to read this, and I can guarantee it'll be updated sooner.


	19. The Horse That Rode You In

Deep breath….exhale….cross fingers….

….okay.

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Part Three – Silver Lining**_

_Chapter 5: The Horse That Rode You In_

The tricky task of extricating the ship from the trees was accomplished by Rinshan, whose easy affinity with the Force made the task simple even for a seven-year-old. They marched it back to the clearing, setting it down next to the wrecked bomber.

The parts on the crashed bomber were compatible with the Sith transport after considerable work. A month after it had crashed, HK, Bastila, Rinshan and Revan had the transport fit for space travel again. The weather had cleared enough to make the work easy, relative to the amount of manual labor required, but it was still cold and snowy, and the days were short. Preparing for the journey was almost as hard as fixing the ship.

They sat around the Great Circle on the eve of their departure, enjoying the company of their friends for the last time. There was a large celebration in their honor that night, celebrating the long years the Jedi had spent in the company of these people. In the midst of the festivities, Rinshan snuggled up between his parents and sighed.

"Mom, Dad? Why are we going?"

Revan stared into the firelight, thinking of what to say. He dreaded this question from his son. Bastila's gaze was so fixated on his cheeks that he could swear he felt heat from it, but that wasn't likely. It was cold, and they were sitting in front of a raging bonfire.

He closed his eyes. "Because the Sith are looking for us, Son."

"But you stopped them."

"There are more, Rinshan," he heard Bastila say. "They have been looking for us since before you were born. The Sith we stopped would have told the rest of them where they were going before jumping to hyperspace, and now it's just a matter of time before they figure out we're here."

"Because those other Sith won't be going back?"

Bastila nodded. "Yes."

"But why were they looking for you in the first place? Was it because you stopped Malak?"

Again, Bastila looked to Revan for help, and again Revan looked to the fire. A few days ago, his answer would have been simple, maybe even forgivable. Now he had detail to go with the answer, reasons for the actions. He had feelings and emotions and impulses embedded with the memories, all of them revolving around fervent passion and indignant rage.

Both had burned as powerfully as the bonfire he stared at so intently, and he realized that little had changed. In the choices they had made since their redemptions, both he and Bastila had been unreasonably lucky that they had not strayed back to the dark path, and he understood for the first time just how right the council had been all along.

_We have to tell him, Revan. He needs to know._

"Do you remember what we told you about the Dark Side, Son?"

The boy nodded his snow-dusted head. "Yeah. You said all you needed to take was one step, and the Dark Side pulled you a hundred steps in."

"We took that step once, Rinshan. Both of us did. Your mother was Malak's apprentice for a short time, and I…I was his master. I was the Dark Lord of the Sith once."

He instantly hated himself for his son's reaction. He had seen the boy stand fearless in the face of so many dangers, had watched him stand at the edge of the village, waiting for his parents to summon him to their side for a battle against evil, and the boy had shown no fear. Now, at the realization that both of his parents had been leaders of the Sith Empire, the boy struggled to keep his control.

"But…you're not anymore, right?"

Bastila placed her hand on the boy's shoulder. "No, we're not. We came back."

He looked warily at the hand on his shoulder, but did nothing to remove it. "How?"

Together, they began the excruciating process of confessing their past to their son. Neither wanted to tell him until he was much older, but the boy had asked and they could not lie to him. He took the story in quietly, flinching when Bastila described their encounter before Malak's betrayal and otherwise hardly moving or acknowledging them at all.

At the end, after several minutes of motionless contemplation, he rose silently and retreated to their home. HK - as the boy's guardian - followed him closely, raising his armed bow and arrow and casting it around as he stalked the shadows. Bastila dejectedly watched her son's retreating form until it disappeared behind the wall of trees that separated their secluded meadow from the larger clearing. Revan stared into the fire again.

Despite the myriad emotions he felt running through him, he was focused more on what Bastila was feeling. Their force bond had never reached a limit, growing slightly stronger day by day. Even though he continued to block her on occasion as memories vividly reintroduced themselves, he could feel the sensations running through her as well as he could sensations from his hands. She was devastated by Rinshan's silent retreat. He felt the slight tremble in her lower lip, heard the bitter thoughts as they sliced through her brain. Revan thought for a moment that he even felt the tears running down Bastila's face. It wasn't until one of them landed on his hand that he realized that at least some of the tears were his own.

"He'll be all right," Bastila whispered, mostly to herself. "He's strong. He just needs time."

"He's a child. He can't be expected to understand."

Bastila turned sharply toward her husband, her tears still streaming down her face. "Which one of you said that? The Jedi or the Sith?"

He frowned, squelching a hot rush of anger. "That's not fair, Bastila. Both exist as the same person. You should know that as well as anyone."

She turned away from him quickly and closed her eyes. "You've changed, Revan. For a moment, I feel the familiar sensation of the man I fell in love with over our bond, but then something changes and I feel the bond shudder as you brutally cut yourself off. It's like there's two of you in there fighting for control, and I'm not sure I like this strange alterego. More than that, I can't help but feel like that alterego is winning."

"There are a lot of things that just come to mind suddenly now. You don't need to feel them. They're hard enough for me to deal with."

She turned to him, the hurt those words caused painted on her face in shades of pale. "Let me be the judge of that." Her features cascaded into a deeper pain, and her voice broke as spoke her next words. "It's torture for me to be so violently severed from you, my love."

Guilt instantly took the opportunity to poke him mercilessly in the ribs. He knew that was part of Malak's strategy all those years ago.

"Let me help you, Revan," she whispered. "That is why destiny placed me at your side."

As he looked into her pleading blue eyes, he knew he was lost. He never could refuse her.

"As you wish."

_The dreamscape of his mind was misty, perhaps smoky. Light trapped itself in the vapors and molecules that swirled around. She stood in the middle somewhere, unsure of where to go and unable to see in any direction. Somehow, she knew she needn't wait long._

_True to her senses, a figure neared before long. She recognized him immediately as her beloved husband, clad in his Jedi robes. She noticed a strange expression on his face, but as he neared she noticed it wasn't so much the expression that threw her. His face was pale, and the veins and arteries in his face stood out darkly against the dead-looking, semi-transparent skin. His eyes were nearly completely yellow, and the lightsaber he held was an angry red._

_She reached to her belt for her own saber, only to find that she did not have one. The robe-clad Sith neared her, the tip of his blade pointing directly at her._

"_Revan? What's going on?"_

_The figure of her husband said nothing, merely smiled cruelly as he brandished his weapon. She did not, could not back up. Revan raised his weapon as he neared her, then brought it crashing down in a finishing power stroke..._

_...only to be stopped by a blue blade as it came up in front of Bastila's face to defend her at the last moment._

_She felt nothing from the form before her, but Revan's familiar presence rushed over her as the red fought with the blue. Her protector stepped around her, and she got her first look at him. He wore Darth Revan's black armor, completing the ensemble with his signature black cape. The hood was down, however, and the mask was gone. Instead, she clearly saw the unblemished face of her beloved._

"_Is this what you've dealt with? Is this what you've been hiding?"_

_The two Revan's continued to swing at each other, but neither answered._

"_You continuously fight. Sometimes, one of you gets the upper hand."_

_The armored Revan grunted as he deflected a blow. Immediately, his alterego lashed out with Force Lightning, but Revan managed to dodge it._

"_What if you both stopped fighting? Could there be a truce?"_

_She was deeply disturbed by the lack of response. The two combatants continued on in a haze of swirling misplaced blue and red. She could do nothing but watch as they danced in deadly circles._

_But the Revan in the Jedi robes, the one with the red lightsaber finally pushed the other aside and away. The armor-clad Revan landed only a few feet on front of him. The alterego dashed forward, lightsaber poised for a finishing blow, and the other made no move._

"_No!"_

_She stepped between them, but the saber did not stop coming. She stood her ground as he neared, swinging upward for a final strike._

_But the red lightsaber stopped before it touched her, and Revan halted his advance. It was not until that moment that she realized he had not meant to swing at her before, merely at the man with the lightsaber immediately behind her._

"_Revan?"_

_He wore a sneer, but it softened as he watched her. She saw anger and adrenaline melt away quickly, running off him in droves as he stood still. His anger turned to confusion, and his eyes looked into hers._

"_Bastila." His arm came down as he deactivated the bright red saber. He looked down at himself surprised, as if he had never noticed what he looked like. Then he looked up sharply, and alarm flickered in his eyes._

_She felt a tingling behind her, in the direction that the first Revan was now staring. She whirled around in time to see the second Revan bare down upon her with his blue saber ignited._

"_Revan!"_

_Again, his forward momentum dissipated just in time to stop his lightsaber before it impaled her. The confusion in the second Revan's eyes mirrored the confusion from the first, and as he looked down at himself, his grief overwhelmed him._

"_What am I doing?"_

_He fell to his knees and dropped the saber. Bastila looked over her shoulder at the other Revan, but he stood motionless._

_Bastila kneeled before him, then took his chin in her hand and tilted his head upward. She placed a gentle kiss upon his lips, hoping that it would give him some idea of all the love and concern she had for him. Then she stood and turned to face the alterego._

_He hadn't moved, but his head was tilted to one side. She crossed the short distance between them and drew his gaze._

"_Is this what it's been like to live with the memories?"_

_His voice was scratchy and low, with just a hint of the even silk she was used to hearing. "A constant battle. Yes."_

"_Can it not end?"_

_The alterego Revan looked directly into her eyes. "Neither one of us can tell where it begins. We fight to find the end."_

"_But you fight yourself."_

_Revan looked down at himself again. "To what extent?"_

"_To every extent. You've taken your combined self and split in two. Neither of you represent either the good man you are or the Dark Lord you were."_

_He nodded. "An amalgam."_

_The other Revan walked up behind her and touched her on the shoulder. She turned, surprised to find the face of the man behind her straightened into solemn lines._

"_We both love you. We both love you deeply."_

"_But we hold different reasons for that love," the robe-clad Revan continued._

"_Revan held many reasons," she said. "Those reasons are split between you."_

_They said nothing for a long moment, the two Revans staring each other down._

"_What can I do to help you?"_

_The pale, Sith-like Revan snorted. "Stitch us together."_

_The healthy, armor-clad Revan frowned. "Make us one."_

_Bastila looked at both in turn, then took one hand from each. She drew them down with her as she took a seat in the mist._

"_I'll see what I can do..."_

To everyone else around the fire, the Jedi were in meditation. In reality, they were living through the hell of Revan's past together. When the last villager went home and the fire died, they remained that way. No one dared disturb them, and even through a brief snow flurry, they remained stone still.

Night turned to day, and still they remained. Ruwe took pity upon them and dusted the accumulated snow from their motionless bodies, then struck the fire early to keep them warm. Rinshan hadn't yet emerged from the dwelling in the meadow, even when morning chased noon.

They awoke shivering, more from exhaustion than cold. Bastila forced a shuddering breath into her system and opened her eyes.

The sky was clear, the fire was lit…and every single villager was standing before them with fear written upon their faces.

Everyone except her son and his droid.

"What happened?"

Ruwe cast a nervous glance toward the forest, but he didn't need to say anything. The Jedi were instantly struck by the sensation of danger.

"Another Fallen ship has landed on this planet. Your son…"

Before the man could form another thought, the two Jedi had crossed the clearing and entered the meadow. Moments later, the villagers watched in awe as they shot through the clearing and onto the forest path.

The surroundings were a blur as they dashed blindly toward the growing ripple in the Force that signaled the presence of something wrong. Revan was dimly aware of the tracks in the snow, relying more on instinct than physical clues.

Bastila abruptly stopped and stared at a fixed point in space. When Revan regained enough of his equilibrium to take a look around, he blanched.

The still water at their feet reflected the crumbling elegance of the Water Temple. The Force was telling them that their battles lay inside.

They carefully walked around the lake's edge until they reached the side of the massive stone construction. The water line joined with the front of the building there, and a set of floating stones provided a way to reach the doors. When they reached the entrance, the ebony barriers were already ajar.

The Water Temple was once simply a chamber full of waterfalls. The jungle had long ago found its way inside the temple, perhaps through the gaping hole in the center of the vast ceiling. Vines cascaded where waterfalls should have, and the only water left was seeping through the crumbling floors.

At the far end of it, a black-clad man stood over a smoldering heap of red-armored rubble, lightsaber drawn. Off to the side, they could see their son standing in a guard position, wielding his smaller saber.

Bastila's gait slowed as she neared the man, and Revan felt the cold hand of fear claw at her heart. He instantly sent her a reassurance, a reminder that this man was not worthy of fear. She calmed, but the trepidation remained.

Malak did, after all, torture her until she had no dignity left. He tortured her until she became everything she despised. All the Jedi training in the galaxy would have a hard time separating fear from those memories.

"I see you survived the Star Forge, Bastila. How your allegiances change."

He was about to respond for her, but she beat him to it. "My allegiance never changed, Malak. Jedi or Sith, I was devoted to Revan. Nothing has changed."

They grew near enough to see what changes time and near-death had wrought upon the man. His right arm was gone, replaced by an amalgam of servos, hydraulics and silicon skin. His artificial jaw remained, battered and worn, joined by a series of mesh grafts along the sides of his face. The armor he wore was pitch black, reminiscent of Exar Kun more than anything else. His voice, however, remained the same.

"I would disagree, my dear Bastila. Much seems to have changed."

As he felt the shiver of revulsion run through the link, Revan's hand tightened over his lightsaber hilt. He cast a sideways glance toward his son, who was still standing as if ready for a fight.

"I was wrong to have taken your mantle, Revan. I recognize this now. But you are wrong if you think you can hide from the dark side. Surely you remember most of your past now. Tell me, have you remembered why our work was more important than the Jedi? Why it was more important than the Republic itself. Do you remember, my friend, why we had to become Sith?"

"I remember why I thought I had no choice. But I was wrong, Malak. We were both wrong." Another glance at his son. This time, Rinshan answered it with one of his own.

"There is no alternative."

"Trust in the Force, Malak." Despite the ompassin behind her words, Bastila could not keep a bitter edge out of his name. "That is your alternative."

Though it sounded mechanical, Malak produced a snort.

"How did you survive the Star Forge?"

The Sith Lord stared coldly at his former friend and master. "I'm surprised you bothered to ask. After our confrontation, I fell into darkness willingly, a broken shell of what I once was. Imagine my surprise when I emerged from the blackness alive and in agony. But I wasted no time in clawing my way to a shuttle and escaping. This is the power you've denied yourselves! The power to continue through a didintegrating space station, though your body should no longer work. The Dark Side feeds you with power until you can deny Death itself!"

Bastila was hardly convinced. "The fleet detected no escaping ships."

"It wouldn't have. I did not leave the system. The shuttle was damaged as the Star Forge blew up, and all its systems were rendered useless. I was found by a salvage crew three days later, deep in a force trance. When they realized who I was, I awakened and dispatched them.

"I spent several months recovering, and as I did I realized two things. The first was that I had turned my back on the Dark Side, and that it had punished me severely before restoring my faith in it. the second thing was that you and Bastila had miraculously escaped that punishment, and that meant you were still somehow deeply connected to the Dark Side, whether you knew it or not. When I finally found what remained of the Sith, I set about trying to find you, to draw you back and - with the destruction of Talravin - give you cause to rediscover the darkness within yourselves. "

A flicker of anger sparked and died out somewhere in Bastila's mind. To some extent, she wanted it there to help remind her why the man needed to be destroyed once and for all. But anger led to hatred, and there was no room for hatred in the compassion of a Jedi, even if it was for the man who destroyed her homeworld and now threatened her family.

"Your attempts obviously failed, Malak. We are all strong servants of the light."

"The light has made you both weak," he spat, raising his voice so that the high spectrum crackled in Malak's vocabulator. "Or was it parenthood?" He cackled again, and Bastila glanced at Rinshan. Malak didn't fail to notice the Jedis' darting eyes.

"This little scrapling is your son, isn't he? Excellent."

Revan spared one more glance at the boy, searching for a reaction. He was impressed by and proud of the way he stood his ground resolutely, the way he was controlling himself and his emotions. Both Revan and Bastila were having issues with such Jedi basics at the moment.

Malak's cold, mechanical laugh echoed through what remained of the temple interior, shaking some of the crumbling stones from the ceiling and forcing them to crash into the floor.

"Tell me, Boy. Do you know who your parents are? Do you know what they've done?"

Revan watched as his son responded. "They are Jedi Knights."

"No. They are Sith."

Rinshan didn't even flinch. "They were Sith. They were redeemed, and now they are good people again."

Malak snorted. "What a foolish answer. You cannot be rid of the darkness once it has consumed you. And they were wholly consumed, Boy, make no mistake. Now, they are nothing but weak shells, hollow husks of what they once were."

Malak received no answer. Rinshan merely stood there, solemn and determined.

"Join me. Join me and claim the place that is your birthright. Join me and rule the galaxy as the Lord of the Sith!"

It took everything for Bastila to allow the scene to play out and say nothing, but Revan knew what his son would say. It was the only thing that his good son could say.

"Never."

Furious, Malak lunged at Rinshan.

Both Jedi Knights wasted no time in moving across the room to block Malak's advance. Revan reached him first, using his blue blade to deflect Malak's downward swing. Rinshan backed away as his mother joined Revan, and the melee that ensued was nothing but a mad flurry of intermittent yellow, red and blue. Rinshan was forced out of the fight by his two protective parents, who placed themselves deliberately between their son and the Sith Lord.

Though the Jedi had the clear advantage, Malak provided them no opportunities to end the battle. He deflected any offensive moves made on their part, countering with complicated flurries and strikes that made them scramble to defend each other. Through it all, he seemed to focus his frustrations on Bastila.

"The light side has always made you weak, Child," he taunted. "You fell to the dark side far too easily. No Jedi would willingly go to the Dark Side to save a ship full of space rats."

"The light does not hinder me. It guides me. I fell because I allowed you to take advantage of feelings I felt guilty about. If I had trusted myself from the start; if I had trusted in my feelings, I never would have given in to you."

An enraged roar erupted from the man, and he swung his red saber deliberately at her head. Revan blocked it, allowing Bastila to lunge at him. Malak stepped out of the way just in time, bringing his saber down to push the blade away from him.

"If none of you will turn to the Dark Side, then I will destroy you all!"

With a grunt and a gesture, both Jedi were thrown back several feet. Revan took the brunt of it, and he bell backward. As this happened, Malak rushed over to Rinshan, blade poised for a kill.

It was Bastila who regained her footing fastest, and it was Bastila that saw the danger her son was in. With speed the likes of which she had never managed to produce, she crossed the distance between Revan and Rinshan, her blade drawn at her side.

She was there, standing between the juggernaut of Malak's fury and her much smaller son as Revan found his footing again. Too late, she realized that her lightsaber would not find Malak's blade before his blade found her.

Revan and Rinshan watched in horror as Malak slammed into her, as her face contorted in pain, as Malak withdrew the saber from her body, and as she fell to her knees. . Screams filled the chamber, but the only sound Bastila made as Malak's lightsaber tore through her chest was a sharp gasp. The screams were filled with rage instead of pain, and they came from her husband. And as he watched her fall to the stone floor, his vision blurred.

Malak stared at the woman, listened to her feeble attempt to breathe, and started laughing. That cold laugh, that same laugh that had taken her so gleefully from him once, sent Revan into darkness.

Fury colored his vision as he lunged upon his former apprentice. He attacked the larger man with barely-controlled speed and ferocity. All the while, Malak's laugh grew stronger, louder, until Revan's universe revolved around stopping it forever.

"That's it. Use your anger. Strike me down with it!"

The former Dark Lord attacked with a quick and complex combination of offensive moves, moves that Malak had a hard time fending off. By the second round, Revan had the man on the run, his lightsaber raised in pitiful defense. By the third pass, Malak's lightsaber lie in ruins several feet away from the Sith Lord.

"Strike me down and reclaim your place as the Dark Lord of the Sith!"

Revan sneered as he prepared for the finishing blow.

"Dad, no!"

He flinched as his son's voice penetrated his blind rage. The man below him was making no move to defend himself.

"You can't give in! You can't turn to the Dark Side!"

Then, as suddenly as it had come upon him, the rage melted away. The sneer disappeared, giving way to shock, then grief as he realized what had just happened.

And Malak, realizing he had lost his last opportunity to turn his former friend, gathered all of his frustration and rage into a point-blank force lightning attack that Revan had no chance of blocking. He landed hard several meters away, coming to rest under the giant hole in the middle of the ceiling, looking straight up at the sky.

In the warmth of his own fading mortality, through the haze of his failure he could see a fuzzy shape to his side. He felt it, felt how familiar it was, and could only dimly note that the figure was holding pure light. The Force was incredibly strong with him, and he realized that the figure was his own son, standing calmly and collected before the Sith who had struck down his parents. A wave of peace fell over him as he watched his only child use pure blue and yellow light to cast away the angry red streaks shot in his direction. A wave of love swept through him as he thought of how his son protected his parents. Against the light let through by the clear blue sky, his destiny burst forward like a supernova, and Revan mourned the loss of his innocent little boy while he marveled at the man he would become.

_Malak, you fool. You don't stand a chance._

His heart fluttered like a waning candle in a soft breeze, and he turned his head once more. He saw Bastila, his beloved wife, struggling to meet the inevitable with her eyes open. A question rang out in his mind, and in response she painfully reached out to him with her hand. He understood.

Gathering what little strength he had left, he moved all he could, coming to rest by her side. Carefully, tenderly, he curled his hand around and within hers, eliciting a faint but relaxed smile from her.

_My love . . ._

He smiled back at her. Behind him, he was dimly aware of the battle reaching its climax. He already knew the outcome.

_I would never regret . . ._

He reached out to gently caress her face one last time.

_I would have lived a thousand years with you . . ._

Her smile completed itself, and her eyes - those beautiful eyes - closed themselves forever.

_. . . and it would never . . . be . . .enough . . ._

He felt tears slip down his cheeks as her presence slowly left him, lifting itself off him and away from him, their bond unwrapping and unraveling itself until it was all but gone.

Only one shimmering thread remained, and her soft whispers called him with it.

He could dimly feel his son as he knelt over him. The boy, such a source of joy for him, held tears in his eyes.

His blue eyes. His mother's eyes.

"Rinshan . . ."

"Dad." His voice cracked under the strain of his emotions. Revan smiled at him.

"My son, you are everything I ever dreamed for you . . ."

Tears cascaded down his face, shining lie the temple waterfalls might have so long ago. "I don't want you to go."

"Your mother and I will never really leave you, Rinshan. Only look to the Force, and you will feel us there."

His eyes closed, and Revan found himself disappointed, but when they opened again, they were calm, serene and compassionate.

"You're right, Dad. I can feel her."

He leaned further towards his father's face, placing his forehead on Revan's. Like the flutter of a soft breeze, he felt the whisper again.

"She's calling you."

His eyes closed, and he was glad that the last thing he would see was blue. The blue of his sons eyes, his wife's eyes. The blue of his cherished lightsaber. The blue of Talravin's seas and Teravia's skies. The blue light of the Force, calling him home.

_I love you, my son._

She was there, with him. He could see her in the center of the blinding blue light.

_I love you too._

_-_

No, you're not done yet.

But close.


	20. Requiem for the Future's Past

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Requiem for the Future's Past**_

Amongst the people of the village of Onderu, these stranded Jedi had been more than chieftans yet less than gods. They were Sepetnesu, and there would be only one way to properly honor their noble sacrifice. They were to be placed upon the han'lydded, where their bodies would soar to the heavens. Just as Calle had.

The sun had fallen on the daytime, and the stars had come out to shine upon them all. The Ebon Hawk had arrived with the Republic Fleet, and all of its old crew came with it, anxious for the opportunity to find their long-lost friends. Rinshan knew them all immediately. They, in turn, could logically deduce who the boy was.

Admiral Onasi, Masters Jolee, Juhani and a knighted Dustil, an armor-covered Canderous, an older Mission and a Chieftain Zaalbar joined the Kadjedded around the Great Circle as Rinshan lit the pyres. They all stood with the community as their bodies were transformed to ash.

The fires roared for ten full days. During that time, the attendant Jedi were able to speak with Rinshan about his future.

"Mom and Dad always said I would be a great Jedi."

"You would indeed be a great Jedi," Juhani said, "if this is the path you wish to choose."

Rinshan fell quiet. "I don't know. I've never really thought about it. I guess I'd like to go out and see other places."

Jolee placed a sympathetic hand on the boy's shoulder. "That's okay, Kid. You've got some time to decide."

The fire blazed on, a blinding testament to the two great people it consumed. Carth stared at it, thinking about how the fire was a brilliantly appropriate eulogy to two of the best people he had ever known. It would burn bright, leave a searing and indelible mark upon everybody's memory, and then die out as all flames must.

He remembered a much younger Bastila Shan and how youthfully innocent she had been when they first met. He remembered how time and countless battles had changed it all. Then Revan entered heir lives, and things changed again. The battle-hardened version of Bastila was abrasive and irritating. Revan helped her find gentleness again. For all the hell he had wrought upon the galaxy as a Sith, Bastila was one of many things he found to respect about Revan the Jedi. He would profoundly miss both of them.

But something occurred to him just then that had never occurred to him before. He frowned, wracking his brain to find the answer to a question he didn't ever think to ask. More than that, he feared there wasn't a single living being that knew the answer to it.

"So I was thinking."

They all turned to him.

"If the kid here is going to go out into our big, bad world he's gonna need a name."

Rinshan frowned. "I have a name."

"Well, yeah. What I mean is you need a family name, something that'll give you a past without actually needing to have one."

It was then that everyone else hit on what he was talking about. Their confused frowns told him he was right.

"Well . . . there's always Rinshan Shan."

The Mandalorian snorted. "Somehow, I don't think that works."

Rinshan tilted his head. He looked over to Ruwe, where he stood with his family. The man caught his gaze and nodded in recognition. "Sepnetsu."

Carth eyed him. "That thing they call you?"

"It's an honor title. I think these people would like for me to keep it."

"That seems perfectly reasonable," the cathar said.

"Yeah, sounds good for ya, Kid."

It was Dustil, ever the curious one, who asked the next, most important question.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

The boy thought for a fraction of a second. "Something about making footprints in the clouds."

Dustil gave the boy a puzzled look. "So you're a sky walker?"

Carth looked up into the heavens, where the stars shone back. Ash had begun to float away on the planet's soft, cool breeze, and he could just make out some of it against the thick backdrop of space.

He laughed. "I can't imagine anything more appropriate."

-

And yet again, not done.

You have to understand...the end was written before the beginning.

And there's really no point in making you wait for it.


	21. Epilogue: Into Oblivion

**Footprints in the Clouds**

_**Epilogue: Into Oblivion**_

_Time passes. Legends are made and unmade. Stories are lost. In a span of a thousand years, an entire civilization can be completely forgotten._

_In the span of two thousand, history can forget and remake itself._

_After four thousand, it can even be wrong about who it once was._

"_Master, I don't understand. Why aren't we allowed to love?"_

"_Love is born of passion, my young padawan. Passion is an emotion we must deny. Remember the Jedi code."_

"_Yes, but I don't understand why passion is so bad? I mean, I understand that it's a kind of feeling that might make you act irrationally and all, but what if there is a way to control it?"_

"_These are dangerous thoughts, Anakin. Controlling passion is something that even some Masters have difficulty with. It was a failing of the Sith. It is a fault that more often than not leads to the Dark Side."_

"_But how can we expect to fight for peace and justice if we are never allowed to understand love?"_

"_We do, Anakin, but not passionate love. We learn compassion. It is central to a Jedi's being."_

"_So it's like spreading all that love out over everything instead of just a few people?"_

"_Kind of."_

"_But master, what about the story of Revan and Bastila? They loved one another."_

"_Yes, but theirs was a special case. And you can't forget that they both fell to the Dark Side as a result."_

"_Well, yeah…but they came back!"_

"_No, Anakin. Bastila fell because of love - "_

"_And came back to the light!"_

"_-and left the Jedi order. As did Revan. In the end, Revan fell to the Dark Side again when Bastila was struck down."_

"_But - "_

"_Once you start down the dark path, Anakin, it will dominate your destiny."_

_They continued walking toward the chambers. Anakin stopped halfway there._

"_Anakin?"_

"_It just seems strange, Master. The story doesn't make sense."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I…I don't know. It just seems wrong to me."_

_Obi-Wan sighed. "Come on, Anakin. We should practice."_

_The young boy sighed. He silently hoped that, one day, he would understand why this story seemed so important to him. "As you wish," he muttered, and followed his master into the chamber._

_**The End**_

Endnotes:

I want to thank everybody who read, reviewed and/or thought about any combination thereof. I've appreciated the support, and I have one request of you. Now that you've reached the end of the ride, I'd really like to know what you thought about it. What were your favorite parts? What were your least favorite parts?

Do not consider that a mandate by any means. It is simply a less than important request from a curious author. In any case, I do thank you for reading.

Until next time...


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